


Cliché prompts

by xJane



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: And all the others at some point, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 32,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26532862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xJane/pseuds/xJane
Summary: From the 50 cliché prompts.Short stories previously posted on Tumblr. Mostly fluff!1 / SPIN THE BOTTLE2 / RESCUE3 / GUARD MY BODY4 / NEED TO TELL YOU5 / FAKING6 /  CAN YOU HEAR ME?7 / ALLEY KISS8 / DOWN9 / LIFESAVER10 / BUSY BALCONY11 / FALL FOR YOU12 / HERE, LET ME13 /  SECOND CHANCE14 / OVERHEARD15 / PAS PEUR16 / ONE NIGHT STAND?17 / SUN18 / DANGER OF FALLING19 / SOULMATEHOOD20 / MORNING AFTER21 / DELAYED DATE22 / DIE A VIRGIN23 / OH NO THEY WERE ROOMMATES24 / A GOOD NEIGHBOUR IS WORTH MORE THAN A DISTANT FRIEND25 / ANIMAL COMPANION
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Comments: 187
Kudos: 306





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: "Spin the bottle"
> 
> <3

He can really only blame himself, Lucas thinks. He got enticed to try Emma’s sugary drinks, and he had completely forgotten how much alcohol she managed to sneak into her concoctions.

That’s how he finds himself on the floor in a large circle, too drunk to protest, while somebody puts the bottle down.

“Okay,” Emma announces gleefully, “if you spin your significant other, you have to spin again. Nobody gets the easy way out.”

There is some groaning at that, but nobody cares too much, and Manon starts the game. It goes on for a few rounds, and Lucas loses interest, until Alexia spins and the bottle lands on Eliott.

They give each other a chaste kiss on the cheek, Eliott plopping his lips in an exaggerated kissing sound, making Alexia giggle.

Lucas wonders if he would have dared turn his head at the last moment, if it had been him, to finally feel Eliott’s lips on his. He could have blamed his drunken stupor and nobody would be any the wiser.

Eliott sits down and spins. Lucas tries to follow the blurry motion, but it makes him dizzy and he closes his eyes. When he opens them again, the bottle points straight at him.

He stares at it, his mind racing. Here is his chance. He could do it. Offer his cheek, then turn. He can almost taste Eliott’s sunshine scent on his lips.

“Oh, no, Eliott, spin again,” Daphné says, sounding disappointed. “I don’t want to see some platonic bro kiss.”

What? Lucas glares at her. Why is she depriving him of what could be the best kiss of his life?

Eliott, who already stood up to make his way towards Lucas, turns towards Daphné in surprise.

“Huh? Why are you changing the rules?”

Daphné giggles and overly enunciates her words, clearly drunk.

“You kissing Lucas would be like you kissing your brother. That doesn’t count. Couples can’t kiss each other either, so why should you?”

“But Lucas and I are not a couple, so that rule doesn’t apply to us,” Eliott states.

Thank you, Eliott, Lucas thinks.

“Oh, come on,” Emma interrupts, when Daphné starts to object in earnest, “Let’s not fight. Just spin again, Eliott, no harm done.”

And Eliott, after the slightest hesitation, spins the bottle towards Imane, and kisses her.

Lucas stands up, gangly and stumbling over his own feet. He suddenly has sobered up considerably.

“I need some fresh air anyway,” he says, frustrated and too upset to deal with this while everybody is around.

Eliott finds him on the balcony some ten minutes later.

“Hey,” he mumbles. “Ready to pay your debts?”

Lucas looks over at him. God, why does he have to be so gorgeous in the moonlight?

“What debts?”

Eliott chuckles.

“I spun the bottle at you. You owe me a kiss.”

Lucas feels his anger surface again. By all rights, he should have gotten to kiss Eliott. It’s bad enough that he got cheated. His friend teasing him about it is just plain inhumane.

“Go complain to Daphné,” he says curtly.

“I could,” Eliott answers, thoughtfully, then adds, with a hint of challenge in his voice, “I won’t have to if you just pay up, though.”

Somehow, he has gotten very close to Lucas.

A strange excitement overtakes Lucas. Eliott seems determined to kiss him, for whatever reason. He is not about to let his second chance pass by unused.

He leans forward.

“Okay,” he whispers, his lips a hair’s breadth away from Eliott’s, their gazes locked.

Slowly, their mouths touch. Finally, Lucas thinks, and he sighs into the kiss. His body melts against Eliott’s and Eliott’s strong arms grab his waist.

“All paid up?”, Lucas asks, his voice shaky, as they let go.

“Not even close,” Eliott replies, just as affected, and captures Lucas’ lips again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: "Help me I’m being hit on at a bar please be my fake boyfriend for a second"
> 
> <3

There is no way out. He’s looked around for ten minutes already, and he can’t find any back door or side passage or emergency exit. He’s desperate enough to try to crawl through a cat flap, but he doesn’t see any. Maybe that last one is a good thing. It would be just his luck to get stuck and be found by the bunch of drunk girls currently waiting for his return near the bar.

He can’t escape. He is trapped.

And the girls are starting to get impatient. They look in the direction of the bathrooms, wondering what is taking him so long. He ducks his head back behind the door, hoping none of them noticed.

He runs his hand through his hair in desperation. He sends a prayer out to the universe, to karma, to whatever higher power that may be listening.

Then, a guy walks in.

Eliott looks at the guy. Could he be the answer to his prayers?

The guy nods and goes over to the sink to wash his hands. He looks at Eliott quizzically, when the latter doesn’t move from his spot.

Eliott studies him quietly. Shorter than he is, but not too short. Brown hair, slim build. He steals a look at his face in the mirror. Strong jaw lines. Defined nose. Big eyes - damn. The guy has noticed him looking and turns around.

“Is there a problem?”

Eliott wants to shake his head, but then he thinks he can hear the girls giggle. He needs to get away.

“Are you into men?”

The guy opens his eyes wide, and fuck, they are so vividly blue Eliott automatically starts thinking about which shade he would use to paint them.

“What? I’m not really into bathroom stall blowjobs, thanks,” the guy snarls, and starts to leave.

“No! No, wait! That’s not why… I don’t want you to suck me off! God, no!”, Eliott answers, stumbling over the words, laughing nervously.

The guy raises an eyebrow.

“No? And why not? I’ll have you know I give phenomenal blowjobs. It’d be the experience of your life.”

Eliott shakes his head. He cannot keep up with the conversation.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to… I mean… Fuck. Wait. Let’s start again. I’m Eliott.”

“Lucas. Into men, to answer your question.”

At least there’s that.

“Okay. It’s just… I need a boyfriend.”

Lucas’ eyebrow goes up again.

“And this is how you pick them up? Has that ever worked on anybody?”

Fuck. He is really making a mess out of this.

“No, not like that! I mean… I need somebody to pretend to be my boyfriend. Those girls at the bar won’t leave me alone.”

Finally, Lucas’ features soften.

“Ah. I heard them going on about a fine piece of ass and how they wouldn’t be against ripping off somebody’s shirt. I assume that was you, then.”

Eliott blushes.

“It’s not that I disagree with them.”

He lifts his eyebrow again, this time accompanied by a smirk.

Eliott looks at him, slightly dazed, as Lucas deliberately lets his eyes travel down over Eliott’s body, then drags them up just as slowly.

“In fact, I might be just as dangerous as them.”

Eliott copies Lucas’ once-over, just as purposely as he had been.

He smiles, and Lucas smiles back.

Suddenly he feels excited about this.

“I’ll take my chances.”

Lucas laughs, and holds out his hand.

“Let’s go then, boyfriend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me a comment, pretty please?
> 
> <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: "You’re my new bodyguard and you’re cute"
> 
> <3

When he enters the kitchen, still groggy from last night, Eliott thinks he must still be dreaming.

Leaning against the counter, sipping coffee, clad in a black suit with a black shirt, is a very cute guy. Eliott blinks, but when he opens his eyes again, the guy is still there. Eliott slowly lets his eyes drag over the guy’s chest, down to his hips, his legs. The suit fits him like a glove.

For a moment, he wonders if he brought somebody home yesterday.

Suddenly, the man looks up. Eliott almost stumbles back at the sight of his piercing eyes. It is not the intensity or the awareness in them that makes Eliott’s breath hitch, though, but rather their incredible colour - bluer than blue, and deep as the night sky.

“Good morning, Mr. Demaury,” the man says.

“Uh, good morning, -”

He lets his voice trail off uncertainly.

“My name is Lucas, Mr. Demaury. I am your new bodyguard.”

At that, Eliott can’t help but laugh. He hates being the son of one of the most powerful politicians of the country. He abhors the fact that his dad insists on the bodyguards. Most of them are loud, ugly and obnoxious, and Eliott always finds a way to fire them within a day or two. He’d have thought his father would have caught on and given up by now.

Lucas frowns at Eliott’s reaction.

“Sorry,” Eliott says, reeling in his mirth. “You just don’t look like the others.”

Lucas is almost a head shorter than Eliott, to start with. And he doesn’t look like the beefy, bulky men Eliott has dealt with before. Lucas is slim, lithe.

On second thought, though, Eliott wouldn’t want to cross Lucas. He looks like he can hold his own, supple and agile, and if the flash of annoyance in his blue eyes is an indication, he doesn’t take shit from anybody.

Lucas cocks his hip against the counter, slowly putting down his coffee. The shift in position shows off his holster with the gun.

“I have a black belt in three different martial arts,” Lucas offers. Eliott is not surprised. He has a vivid image of Lucas sneaking around his opponents, quick on his feet, dodging every strike until the other is exhausted, and then take them down with a well-placed, intelligent attack.

Then another idea surfaces, and this one opens up perspectives.

“You’ll have to teach me, then,” he says, and this time he makes his eyes wander of Lucas’ body openly, clearly. He is rewarded when Lucas’ cheeks turn just the slightest shade of pink. Damn if that doesn’t set off his eyes even more, Eliott observes raptly.

“I’m your bodyguard,” Lucas says evenly. “Not your fighting instructor.”

“Hmmm,” Eliott retorts. He likes the challenge.

“Okay then, bodyguard. I’m gonna take a shower. I think I’ll need protection… from inside the bathroom. You coming?”

He almost feels bad for the emphasis on the last word, but his guilt dissipates quickly when Lucas’ blush deepens.

Eliott saunters off. Lucas doesn’t follow. Yet, Eliott thinks. He has time. He’ll keep Lucas close. His father will be glad, finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me a comment, pretty please?
> 
> <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: "Drunkenly confessing feelings"
> 
> <3

“Listen,” Eliott slurred, “listen, Lucas, I’m drunk.”

“No shit,” Lucas drily replied, looking at his friend with an amused smile around his lips. He couldn’t remember having ever seen Eliott this drunk. Usually, the other boy was the sober one in their group, because alcohol messed with his medicines. It appeared Eliott had decided to make up for all those times when he stuck to one or two beers tonight, and he’d gone all in.

When Lucas had noticed Eliott swallowing half a glass of some lethal concoction Emma had brewed in one go, he had decided to take it easy himself. Eliott deserved to let go this once, but Lucas wanted to remain sober to take care of him should he need it. And need it he did.

Eliott could barely focus on Lucas’ face, his eyes red and bloodshot, his hands trying to grab Lucas’ arm, but flailing wildly around in the air instead.

“Yeah, but, I need to tell you something, okay? I just needed to be drunk first, right? But now I am drunk.”

Lucas chuckled. He had no idea drunk Eliott would be so entertaining. Drunk Eliott was also very endearing, looking at Lucas with such sincerity in his eyes and clinging onto whatever body part of Lucas he managed to get a hold on, but Lucas tried to concentrate on the entertaining part. And anyway, sober Eliott was endearing too, so nothing new there.

“Are you listening?”

“I am,” Lucas humoured Eliott, as he tried to get the latter's cooperation. “Come on, Eliott, just a bit further.”

It was cold, and the walk to Eliott’s, which normally should have taken them ten minutes, had been three times as long already and they still weren’t even in Eliott’s street. Lucas momentarily felt guilty for all the times Eliott had had to put a drunken Lucas to bed.

“Good. Because I am drunk, and I want to say something, but only when you are listening.”

“I’ll listen while we walk, okay?”

Lucas tugged at Eliott’s arm when they crossed the corner. Finally, they had Eliott’s building in sight.

“Okay. It’s just that I want to tell you something, you see…”, Eliott mumbled.

He kept rehashing variations on the same theme, and while part of Lucas was dying of curiosity as to what Eliott was alluding to, a bigger part of him just wanted to get Eliott safely into bed, so he didn’t ask.

It was only after Lucas had, with considerable effort, managed to get Eliott spread out in what looked to be a very awkward and uncomfortable position on his bed, with a glass of water and painkillers ready on the nightstand, that Eliott became insistent once more.

“Lucas… I need you to listen to me now, okay? Are you listening?”

“Sure, I’m listening. Go ahead.”

For a moment, it seemed like Eliott would fall asleep, but then he took a deep breath, managed somehow to hoist himself in a somewhat upright position.

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you too, Eliott. Now what do you want to tell me?”

“No! You don’t understand! That is what I needed to say to you. I love you!”

Eliott sounded frantic.

“Oh.” Lucas frowned. This was the whole big declaration? “Well, thanks, I guess.”

“No! No, fuck!”, Eliott wailed. “Don’t you see? I am in love with you!”

Lucas froze, but Eliott was on a roll now, and kept talking, stumbling over the words.

“I have been in love with you for so long and I tried to tell you but I couldn’t, so I figured I needed to be pissed drunk, but it’s still true, I love you so fucking much and –”

“Eliott.” Lucas was firm. “Eliott, you don’t know what you’re saying. You won’t remember any of this in the morning.”

“But that’s precisely the point!”, Eliott yelled, waving his arms around like a madman.

“I won’t remember, so I won’t have to live with the fact that you rejected me. I know what I’m saying, Lucas, I love you, I’ve loved you for ages, but I know you don’t feel the same. So it’s a good thing I won’t remember. You can let me down and tomorrow you pretend like nothing ever happened, and we can still stay friends and nothing has to change.”

A thousand butterflies erupted somewhere within Lucas, as he swallowed thickly. Eliott was looking up at him with so much sincerity and – Lucas recognized the look in his best friend’s grey eyes. He wore the same dopey look whenever he was looking at Eliott when the latter wasn’t looking back.

Eliott was confessing his love for Lucas. He blinked, went as far pinching himself, but this was no dream. This was really happening – something Lucas, just ten minutes ago, would have killed for, would have died for – and the idiot being gorgeous and delightful on the bed was so fucking drunk he wouldn’t remember a word of what was said in this room come tomorrow.

“What if don’t want to pretend nothing happened?”, he said finally, softly, his eyes not leaving Eliott’s.

“What?”

“What if I don’t want to pretend?”, Lucas repeated, firmly. “What if I want to remember this? What if I am in love with you too?”

Eliott groaned.

“Don’t tease, Lulu. That’s mean. Just because I’m drunk doesn’t mean you have to humour me.”

Lucas sighed. There was a lot to be wished for with Eliott’s timing, but at least he had been brave enough to speak up. It was more than could be said for Lucas.

“Okay, fine, you idiot. Move over,” he commanded, as he stripped down to his boxers.

Eliott gaped at him, mouth open but not moving.

“You are so hot,” he finally blurted out, his words somehow a lot less slurred.

“Thanks,” Lucas grinned. Adorable, there was no other word for it. “Come on. We’re gonna sleep, and in the morning we’re gonna discuss this. I want you to tell me you’re in love with me again first thing in the morning. Now sleep.”

He pulled Eliott close to his skin and turned off the light. Eliott still mumbled a bit, clearly too confused to follow the current train of events, but after a few minutes, he burrowed into Lucas’ side, his head on Lucas’ chest. Within seconds, he was snoring softly.

Lucas laid awake, holding Eliott like the precious treasure he was. He couldn’t wait for morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me a comment, pretty please?
> 
> <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: "Fake dating AU"
> 
> <3

They’ve been doing it for a few months now.

It started as a white lie to Idriss, because Eliott didn’t feel like yet another blind date.

They thought it’d be harmless, a quick fib, soon to be forgotten.

“I can’t, Idriss. I’m going on a date with Lucas, so…”

Lucas, interpreting Eliott’s silent plea correctly, had nodded.

“We thought we’d see if there could be something there.”

And that was it. Lucas had been texting some boy he might vaguely be interested in while he spoke, so it wasn’t like they were really planning to go through with it.

But of course, Idriss told Sofiane, Sofiane told Imane, Imane accidentally let it slip during lunch, and everybody was so invested.

So they made up a romantic date in the park, involving a picnic and sharing ice cream and holding hands - while in fact they’d holed up in Eliott’s flat with pizza and beers and homework. I mean, it had been a pleasant day, every day with Eliott was pleasant, but it hardly was a date.

And then their friends started coming up with ideas for their second date, and bets were made as to how long it would take them to make things official, and the girls started coining ship names - Elicas? Lucott?

So they’ve been pretending to go on a bunch of dates. Lucas constantly has to rein in Eliott, who comes up with the most preposterous fake plans - champagne on a boat on the Seine, a ride in a hot air balloon, a visit to the opera. Lucas has to keep telling him nobody would believe them without Instagram stories to back them up. So they go and take pictures in front of fancy restaurants, film themselves cuddling with a cute dog on the street, and even climb the Eiffel Tower to take a blurry sunset picture.

Lucas’ grades have never been better though - all the studying at Eliott’s while they are supposed to be off romanticizing is paying off.

The thing is though - they have to play along whenever they go out with the rest, too. No flirting for either one of them. Instead, they dance together, call each other sugary pet names, sit on each other’s lap, and go home together early amidst a myriad of innuendo.

In hindsight, it is miracle it has lasted this long without any questions or hiccups.

But it seems their time is up. Emma has just told them they don’t have to be shy - they can kiss in front of them if they want to.

They stare at each other for a long beat.

Everybody seems to have gone so quiet, as if they all just realized they have never seen the two of them kiss.

They are already sitting half-entwined on the couch, their faces close enough to be breathing the same air.

They have two options: come clean, or kiss.

They kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me a comment, pretty please?
> 
> <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: "You’re in a coma and I confess all my feelings only for you to wake up "
> 
> <3

“Oh, god!”

Lucas came to an abrupt standstill. He’d run all the way, first from his flat to the hospital, and then, after it had taken the nurse at the reception desk way too long to give him directions to Eliott’s room, in an impressive sprint to the room. He panted, trying to get some oxygen into his burning lungs, but the sight in front of him was not very conducive to calming down.

The figure in the bed was covered almost completely in bandages and casts. Even his face was wrapped in white strips, and the parts of him that were visible, were unrecognizable because of the sheer amount of cuts and bruises marring the skin.

“Oh my god, Eliott…”

Lucas could hardly get the words out through the lump in his throat, and he felt the tears he had managed to keep at bay in his adrenalin-fueled run trickling down his cheeks.

It had been a nightmarish chain of events that brought Lucas here.

When Eliott had been brought in after the car had hit him, he’d been unconscious and the nurse had called his parents to inform them. However, with them being in Marseille, they hadn’t been able to come to the hospital immediately, so they had contacted the Bakhellals. Unfortunately though they had also been away for the weekend, and Idriss and Imane had called Lucas. The details had become muddier with every pass, so Lucas had been preparing for the worst, but the sight in front of him exceeded even that.

In two strides, Lucas crossed the room and sank into the uncomfortable chair next to the bed.

He grabbed the hand closest to him, also heavily bandaged, and pressed it against his cheek, uncaring about his tears soaking the linen.

There was a needle in Eliott’s arm and some yellowish fluid was drip-drip-dripping through clear plastic tubes before disappearing into Eliott’s veins. The room was cold and the white walls seemed to close in on Lucas. The only sounds were the steady beeping of various monitors attached to Eliott, and the falling of both the IV fluid and Lucas’ tears.

A nurse entered, and startled when she saw Lucas.

“Oh, excuse me. I didn’t know anyone was here.”

She made quick work of checking the monitor and putting up a new plastic bag of the same light ochre fluid.

“Is he – will he be –”, Lucas sniffed.

The nurse paused.

“You could try talking to him. There is a chance he will hear you,” she said diplomatically.

It was as if the earth beneath his feet had opened up and threatened to swallow him whole. Lucas couldn’t imagine never seeing Eliott’s smile again, never getting lost in his stormy eyes again. He might as well die.

Suddenly, shame flooded through him. He might lose Eliott, and Eliott wouldn’t even know how Lucas felt about him.

So he held on tightly to what the nurse had said. If there was any chance Eliott could hear him, Lucas needed to come clean.

His eyes were so puffy by now he could barely see Eliott’s figure on the white sheets.

He squeezed the covered hand even tighter.

“Eliott…”, he full-on sobbed. “Eliott, I’m so sorry. I should have told you. There were so many times when I wanted to tell you and I never did, because I was so afraid I might lose you…”

The wails wrecked his body, as he tried to breathe. He might lose Eliott anyway, now.

“I just… I love you, Eliott. I don’t know if you can hear me, but I am so in love with you. Please don’t leave me, Eliott…”

It was hard, because he was bawling so openly and loudly, but a small cough penetrated his teary monologue.

He looked up, expecting the nurse again, or a doctor, or maybe the cleaning lady, or basically anybody but the person standing in the door opening.

“Thanks, I guess? I can hear you just fine, and I won’t leave you, but why are you telling some unknown dude you’re in love with me?”

Lucas’ eyes went big and round as saucers. They flitted from the figure in the bed, whose hand he was still holding against his cheek, and Eliott, who had a few bruises, a bit of dried blood on his arm showing through a torn shirtsleeve, and a large wrapping around his ankle, but otherwise seemed perfectly fine.

“Eliott? But – what – who –”

Eliott sat down on the empty bed.

“This is supposed to be my bed, but really I’m allowed to go home, so I don’t need it. I don’t know who that is.”

He gestured to the man. Lucas dropped the hand he was holding unceremoniously, then with a shriek grabbed it again and put it gingerly back on the mattress. He kept staring at Eliott as if he had seen an apparition.

Eliott grinned, and fuck, Lucas couldn’t help but melt.

“So, uh,” Eliott hedged, purposefully, teasingly, “are we talking about your big confession?”

“Oh my God!”

Lucas jumped up and onto Eliott, tackling him to the bed, using all his strength to hug him as tight as he could.

“I thought you were gonna die! I thought I’d never get a chance to talk to you ever again! You idiot, you scared the hell out of me, you –”

Eliott let out a loud ‘oof’.

“Hey! Careful! I was run over by a car!”

Lucas didn’t exactly care at this very moment. Eliott was alive, was walking and talking and he wouldn’t lose him.

Eliott chuckled, and his arms curved around Lucas’ waist.

“That confession?”, he prompted again. “Does that still count or are you taking it back now I’m not dying?”

“Oh, god, you are so annoying. I hate you,” Lucas mumbled into Eliott’s shoulder.

“Too bad,” Eliott replied, his hands slipping down slowly from Lucas’ waist. “Because if it still counted, I could tell you I’m in love with you too.”

Lucas lifted his face to look at Eliott.

A long beat passed, and then with a moan they pressed their lips together in a kiss that was not very suited to their environment.

They didn’t stop, however, until the nurse came into the room again and scolded them thoroughly. When they surfaced and she recognized Lucas, a perplexed look crossed her face and she stopped mid-sentence as she looked over to the other bed, but the boys paid her no further heed, as they left the hospital hand in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me a comment, pretty please?
> 
> <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: "There’s people chasing us and I pulled you into the alley with me and wow you’re close"
> 
> <3

After Daphné’s panicked warning, chaos ensues. Everybody starts running in all possible directions, yelling to their friends to keep up.

Lucas runs too, without conscious thoughts, unsure where to go. He has to admit he is not thinking very clearly in the first place, and the bedlam around him doesn’t exactly help. His mind is running even faster than the people who speed past him.

He can still feel Eliott’s gaze on him. They both were kissing their girlfriends - but their eyes had been telling something else. It had been… exhilarating, and yet it felt wrong at the same time. They had stared at each other, unwavering. It was like he had been telling Eliott he’d rather be kissing him. Was that also what Eliott had been telling him? The possibility seems too surreal to take seriously, yet it looms so large in his mind. It seems to have taken hold of his brain and he tenses up at the idea, like the string of a bow, poised, right before the shot is taken, humming in the air, nothing but potential energy crying out for release.

Lucas finds himself alone, no trace of his friends, or even Chloé. He stands motionless, the energy buzzing through him.

He shakes his head, trying to clear the mist. He blinks, trying to decide where to go, when a strong arm grabs his wrist and pulls him roughly into an alley. He lands against the wall, and when he looks up, he sees him.

Eliott.

So close. Too close.

Eliott grins at him, and Lucas swears his heart stops beating. He laughs back, but his throat constricts and his breath hitches.

From this close, he can see the myriad of hues of grey swirling in Eliott’s eyes. They look at him with the same intensity as before, on the dancefloor.

Eliott is still holding on to his wrist. He looks at where they touch. Eliott’s fingers burn on Lucas’ skin, and all he can think about is those long, slender fingers tracing every inch of his arm, his face, his body. He feels his cheeks flush.

Everything seems to still inside him.

When he draws his eyes up, ever so slowly, Eliott is looking at Lucas’ mouth.

He knows. They have been dancing around it - at the bus stop, on Eliott’s couch. There is only one way to go.

He leans in. Eliott mirrors his movements, his gaze still on Lucas’ lips.

At the last possible moment, Eliott looks up. Their eyes lock.

So do their mouths - their hands - their souls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me a comment, pretty please?
> 
> <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: "Playing with their hair while their head’s in your lap"
> 
> Warning - Not very fluffy, more angsty or hurt/comfort like!
> 
> <3

Mrs. Demaury opens the door for a panting Lucas. He ran all the way here from the park where he had been chilling with the gang.

“I’m sorry I called you, Lucas, but you know how it gets –”

Lucas shakes his head, eager to get to Eliott. He doesn’t mind Mrs. Demaury calling him, wouldn’t ever mind, even if it would be in the middle of the night, because, yes, he knows how it gets.

He has done this often enough by now. Eliott will be curled up impossibly small in his bed, staring into nothing with dull, glassy, red-rimmed eyes. His hair will be greasy and matted in knots, his skin sallow and sticky with sweat. There will be no telling how long it has been since he has eaten, or showered, or talked, or even moved.

Lucas hates to see Eliott like this. It hurts him physically, to see his best friend retreat into some dark and hopeless pit of despair, where nobody can follow him.

Eliott has probably been down for days – he forgot to ask Mrs. Demaury exactly how long it has been going on this time, but the last message Lucas has gotten from Eliott was four days ago. Eliott has probably screeched at his parents to leave him alone. Once, he even threw a heavy textbook in his dad’s direction, just because he didn’t want anybody near. Mrs. Demaury doesn’t call Lucas until it’s irrefutably necessary.

When Eliott is at his absolute lowest – that’s when Lucas comes in.

Lucas is the only one Eliott will allow near him, when he is lost in the deepest and blackest of deep black clouds.

He takes a fortifying breath to prepare himself, and opens Eliott’s bedroom door. It is dark, and stuffy, and smelly, but Lucas doesn’t care. He only thinks about the forlorn boy hidden under the pile of blankets in the middle of the bed.

He steps inside, closing the door quietly behind him, walking on tiptoe, knowing Eliott might be easily spooked.

He doesn’t try to talk, doesn’t ask Eliott anything, because he knows there will not be a reaction, not even an acknowledgement Lucas is there.

And Lucas doesn’t know if he really helps Eliott at all, or if it hurts him that Lucas is here, but he cannot turn his back on Eliott – his heart is teetering precariously on the edge of the ravine as it is. Leaving Eliott would make it fall in for sure, and shatter irreparably on the jagged rocks thousands of meters below.

He slowly, methodically, peels off some of the layers of fabric covering Eliott, who is wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, but still seems to shiver in the stifling room. Lucas wants to open a window, let the autumn breeze in and chase away all of Eliott’s sorrows, but he knows it doesn’t work like that.

Eliott blinks when the paltry light coming through the closed curtains hits his face. He stares at Lucas, unmoving, silent tears rolling over his beautiful face.

Lucas slowly sits down on the bed, his back against Eliott’s pillow, leaning against the headboard. Centimeter by excruciating centimeter, he moves Eliott, his body limp and lifeless and not helping Lucas at all, until Lucas holds Eliott in his arms, Eliott’s head resting in his lap.

Eliott still doesn’t move, doesn’t talk, but his breathing slowed down somewhat, and the tears are trickling at a lower speed.

There is so much love in Lucas’ heart, so much he didn’t think it was even possible to ever love somebody this deeply, so much he’d give up anything and everything for a smile from Eliott – and yet it seems like just a drop of water against the ocean of Eliott’s agony.

They remain like that for hours. Lucas has no idea how long he sits holding Eliott. His legs cramp up and he is hungry, but he ignores it. Eliott is the only thing that matters right now.

Mrs. Demaury pokes her head through the door at some point. Lucas wordlessly shakes his head at her, and she leaves again, worry etched on her face in deep lines.

The light shining through the gap in the curtains has changed. It’s no longer golden and soft, but cold and silvery. Eliott is still staring into the distance with unseeing eyes, and Lucas dies a thousand deaths, praying to whoever will listen to take away Eliott’s pain.

At some point, Eliott closes his eyes, and cuddles his body closer to Lucas. Lucas feels like he can breathe for the first time since he got here.

Without realizing it, his fingers start combing through Eliott’s hair. He ignores the oily feeling against his palm, and just keeps running his hand up and down, slowly, rhythmically.

Finally, after hours of Lucas feeling the strands gliding between his fingers, Eliott mumbles a word. Just one word.

“Lucas.”

That’s all he manages, but it is all Lucas needs.

He cannot keep things in anymore, and he bends over, presses a kiss into Eliott’s tangled locks.

“I love you, Eliott. I love you so much. I would take all of this from you if I could, and more. Please come back to me, Eliott. Please fight.”

The tears are rolling down Lucas’ cheeks now, but it doesn’t matter. He keeps his hand in Eliott’s hair, and waits. He will wait until eternity for Eliott if he has to.

***

It doesn’t take eternity, but Eliott needs a few more days to resurface.

It is only then he answers Lucas, and tells him how Lucas’ words set something free in him. Lucas loving him when he was at his most unlovable, when he thought he was without value and worthless, undeserving of care and tenderness, was the light at the end of the long, long tunnel.

And he cradles Lucas to him, and runs his big hands through Lucas’ smooth hair in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me a comment, pretty please?
> 
> <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: "You saved my life!"
> 
> <3

“Excuse me!”

Lucas hears somebody yelling, but he is running late for his class, and his professor is a stickler for rules. He stressed several times the essay was to be turned in before the start of class today, so Lucas absolutely needs to be there on time. He has busted his ass off for this essay, spending the last few weeks holed up in the library and pulling a couple of all-nighters, but he is extraordinarily proud of the result. He’s researched his thesis well, developed a convincing argument, and had Imane check it three times for spelling errors. This essay is a beauty – and that is a good thing, because it counts for 40% of his final grade this year. Now all he needs to do is be on time in the lecture hall, or it will all have been for nothing and Lucas will fail miserably.

The voice behind him calls again, though, sounding a bit frantic.

“Hey! Wait!”

Hasty footsteps come closer, and Lucas feels a hand on his shoulder, and he whips around on his heels, a bit annoyed.

“Uhm, sorry, you – you forgot this, I didn’t know if it was important…”

Lucas sees an outstretched hand, holding – Oh holy fuck. His essay. He snatches it out of the stranger’s hand, and cradles it to his chest. Only then does he look up to thank his saviour.

His heart, which leapt into his throat at the realization he almost forgot his essay, now starts beating erratically, making it hard for Lucas to breathe.

Less than half a meter in front of him stands Eliott Demaury.

Everybody knows Eliott Demaury. Half of the campus is in love with Eliott Demaury, and Lucas is no exception. He has admired the tall, handsome boy with the sunshine smile numerous times from afar, but from this close, he can see the sparkles in his grey-green eyes, the wrinkly lines around them as he smiles, the slight dimple in the chin, the moles on one side of his face. He is mesmerized, and completely star-struck, and stares like an idiot at Eliott, until he remembers the essay, and the time.

“You saved my life,” he blurts out, stupidly, before he starts running, throwing a “Thanks!” over his shoulder.

He makes it with less than a minute to spare, and the professor puts his essay on the pile with a small frown and a pointed look at the clock, but says nothing.

Lucas sits down in the lecture hall, slightly out of breath – from the run here, or from the close encounter with Eliott Demaury.

It’s a good thing the essay is finished and the next quiz is not until a month from now, because Lucas doesn’t hear a word the professor is saying. He doesn’t even open his textbook. All he can think about is grey eyes reflecting the sun, a smile that possibly can cure cancer, and a voice that is smoother than honey.

Just his luck, he thinks. Eliott Demaury was actually talking to him – something he has only fantasized about, oh, a million times, give or take – and he just had to bolt as fast as he could.

Oh, well. He resigns himself to having a few _very detailed_ dreams about Eliott in the coming weeks, as the bell rings and the professor dismisses class, taking the pile of essays with him. Lucas tries to find solace in the idea of a great grade, but in the light of missing a chance to talk to Eliott Demaury, who is literally the stuff dreams are made of, it seems a meagre consolation prize.

He slowly stuffs his unopened textbook and unused notebook in his backpack, and shuffles out of the room, noticing everybody else has long gone, eager to be outside and enjoy the nice weather.

He isn’t really paying attention, still mourning his one and only chance to look into those amazing eyes, when he hears a voice ringing out.

“Hey! Wait!”

Lucas stops dead in his tracks. He is losing his mind – now he’s not just daydreaming about Eliott, but hearing his voice, too. He shakes his head, and slowly turns around.

Walking towards him is Eliott Demaury.

“Seems I have to chase you around every time I want to talk to you,” he says as he approaches, grinning in a way that makes Lucas’ breath falter. He just gapes at Eliott, his mouth half-open, before he closes it with a snap when he realizes what he’s doing.

“You want to talk to me?”, he asks dumbly, and immediately wants to slap himself. He is not going to charm Eliott with his wit today, obviously.

“I do. We need to discuss me saving your life,” Eliott answers, sounding serious, but with a smirk on his face.

“Okay, but – how did you even know what class I had?”

Eliott shrugs, as if that is of no importance.

“Asked Imane. Anyway, me saving your life?”

Eliott asked Imane? Eliott _knew_ Imane? Eliott knew _Lucas_ knew Imane? Lucas’ head spins with a hundred of buzzing thoughts he has no hope of following through right now, not with Eliott standing so close Lucas can smell his aftershave.

“What about it?”, he therefore replies. Eliott already knows he is incapable of normal speech, anyway.

“I think that deserves a reward, don’t you? Saving somebody’s life?”

Lucas gives up. His brain has clearly checked out for the day, so he just nods.

“I guess?”

The smile on Eliott’s face widens, and his eyes sparkle with mischief.

“So? Are you gonna give me one? A reward, I mean?”

Something is yelling insistently in the back of Lucas’ mind, but it cannot reach Lucas through the fog that suddenly fills his head.

“Uh, yeah, of course. What do you want?”

It feels like something important is about to happen, something that could change his whole life, and Lucas feels like he’s just floating around on a sea in turmoil, but he isn’t afraid – he just follows wherever this will lead.

Eliott’s grin has disappeared now, and he steps slightly closer to Lucas, a serious look in his eyes. Lucas cannot help but dropping his eyes briefly to Eliott’s lips, then quickly looking up again, feeling his cheeks redden.

“You want to know what I want, Lucas?”

Eliott’s voice has dropped an octave, and – is he looking at Lucas’ mouth too?

“I want a whole lot – but let’s start with a date.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me a comment, pretty please?
> 
> <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: "You confessed your feelings and we’re about to kiss but we get interrupted"
> 
> <3

It was just another party, like they had had dozens of times before and no doubt would have dozens of times later.

And just like at every other party, Eliott had spent most of it trying to keep tabs on Lucas. He could be doing any of a number of other things – dancing with his friends, or trying to keep Idriss from getting to drunk, or smoking on the balcony, or getting drinks from the kitchen, or even making out a bit with a random girl – but whatever he was doing, he was always watching Lucas from the corner of his eye too.

On the nights when Lucas looked happy, goofing around with his friends, dancing with the girls, Eliott went home feeling content. On the nights however when Lucas seemed to want to forget certain things that were bugging him and got way too drunk or sat outside smoking all evening, Eliott went home with a heavy heart. The worst were the nights when Lucas made out with some guy against the wall – those were the times Eliott went home upset and frustrated and most likely too drunk to be healthy.

Tonight seemed like it was going to be a good night. Lucas was drinking a beer, but he wasn’t downing hard liquor as if his life depended on it, and he was not making eyes at anybody, nor grinding up to some unknown guy on the dancefloor.

Eliott had been dancing a bit, but he felt sweaty and sticky in the stifling room, and he wanted to get some fresh air. It was a crisp autumn night, and the skies were clear. He nonchalantly glanced over his shoulder at Lucas. He was talking to Manon, and they both had smiles on their faces. Lucas was telling a story, gesturing heavily, and Eliott could see his eyes sparkle all the way across the room. He drank them in, but before it could become creepy, he turned his back to the two of them and went in search of some peace and quiet outside.

He found what he searched for on a tiny balcony, leaning on the banister and staring out over the back walls of the neighbourhood’s apartments. It was hardly romantic, just a bunch of cramped balconies with trash bags on them, or washing lines, or air conditioning units. But above it all shone the moon, and Eliott reveled in the silvery light piercing the darkness.

He closed his eyes for a moment, just breathing in the cold air. He shivered a bit when the night breeze skimmed his heated skin, but he didn’t want to go back in to get his jacket. He thought about Lucas being so carefree just now with Manon. Lucas had been looking happy a lot more often lately, his laugh open and wide, his eyes twinkling. Eliott found himself mesmerized by it more often than not.

He was so lost in his own mind, he didn’t hear the door open behind him, but he heard a familiar voice apologize when they noticed the balcony was occupied.

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t know you were here. I just wanted to smoke, but I can find some other place to do it…”

Eliott turned around. Lucas stood in the door opening, looking at Eliott and fiddling with a blunt.

“Oh!”, Eliott exclaimed. “No, that’s fine, you can smoke, if you can squeeze on here with me…”

The small space really wasn’t meant to fir two people, but Eliott stepped back all the way to the railing so Lucas could cross the threshold and close the door behind him. They stood side by side, their shoulders touching. Lucas kept twirling the blunt around, but he didn’t light it. He seemed a bit absent-minded, Eliott noticed, and he wondered what had happened to the boisterous Lucas from a few minutes ago.

“Are you okay?”, he inquired, a bit unsure whether it was the right thing to do. He and Lucas hadn’t ever really hung out together, and he didn’t want to overstep.

Lucas shrugged.

“Yeah, everything fine,” he answered, but he didn’t look at Eliott. Eliott returned to staring at the grey walls surrounding them as silence fell between them.

Suddenly, Lucas turned to face Eliott, and he spoke up.

“Actually, I do have a bit of an issue.”

Eliott turned too. Lucas was staring straight at him, and in the dark it was hard to discern, but it seemed like he was blushing faintly. It might just be the cold wind biting his cheeks, but either way, it fascinated Eliott. He wished the moon would be brighter, so he could see Lucas better.

“Do you want to talk about it?”, he asked, schooling his features and carefully keeping his voice neutral.

“It’s this guy,” Lucas started, then fell silent, and lowered his eyes.

Great, Eliott thought. He didn’t want to talk to Lucas about whoever Lucas was crushing on, but he already offered, so he nodded cautiously.

“What about this guy?”, he prodded, when Lucas didn’t continue.

“I’m, like, into him. A lot,” Lucas stuttered after a long beat. “He’s perfect. He’s so hot. And talented. And smart. We haven’t really talked a lot, but he’s just… yeah.”

Eliott waited, but Lucas remained silent once again.

“And?”, Eliott finally asked, cursing his masochistic side.

Lucas looked up again, his eyebrows drawn into a frown.

“I don’t think he’s into me, though,” Lucas admitted.

He kept staring at Eliott, until he sharply turned away, breaking the eye contact.

“Never mind,” he said, shrugging. “It’s not your problem, anyway.”

He shivered a bit, and Eliott wanted to pull him closer, give him some of his warmth.

“He must be very stupid, then,” he finally said, slowly. “To not be into you, I mean.”

He held his breath, waiting for Lucas’ reaction. It came in the form of Lucas’ lifting his eyes up to Eliott’s, the blue dark and cloudy.

“He must be stupid?”, Lucas repeated, his voice hoarse.

“He must be,” Eliott stated again, firmer this time.

Their eyes were locked, and Lucas seemed rooted on the spot, frozen. He seemed unsure what to do or say, and Eliott decided it was now or never.

“I’m not stupid, though,” he whispered, hesitatingly, afraid he interpreted everything completely wrong, but his eyes never leaving Lucas’.

Lucas shivered again, but this time, it was another kind of shiver.

“You’re not?”, Lucas finally asked, his voice barely audible, stepping the tiniest bit closer to Eliott. Eliott leaned against the balustrade, and spread his legs just enough. Lucas took another tiny step.

“I’m not,” he confirmed, his gaze flitting between Lucas’ eyes and his lips. He daydreamed about those lips, about what they would taste like, about the sounds that would escape from them if he were to kiss them.

Lucas stared, and leaned closer towards Eliott, agonizingly slow.

“I would be very into you, if you were into me,” Eliott breathed, when Lucas’ mouth was just centimeters away from his own, and he dipped his head, ready to claim it, when the door suddenly opened again, and a very drunk Basile wiggled himself on the balcony, pressing Lucas flush against Eliott in the process. Not that Eliott minded _that_ – his arms immediately snaked around Lucas’ waist – but he had been wanting to kiss Lucas for ages, and to almost get everything he had fantasized of, only to have it been snatched away so rudely, was pure torture.

Lucas groaned, and they were so close Eliott could feel it reverberating through his body.

“Baz, what are you doing?”, he demanded, clearly affected by the interruption too.

“Just needed some air, man. Hey, what were the two of you doing out here anyway?”

Basile squinted at them, but he was too drunk to focus for long and gave up.

The door opened again, and Arthur pulled Basile back inside, not paying any attention to the other occupants of the balcony.

“Come on, dude, I’m gonna take you home, let’s go…”

Basile followed willingly, and when the door fell closed behind him, both Lucas and Eliott sighed in relief. They stared at each other for a long beat, and Eliott moved closed again – when the door opened for the third time in as many minutes and Emma and Alex, necking heavily, tried to force themselves out, hardly noticing the other couple trying to get some action on, too. Eliott stared at them in total disbelief, and then back to Lucas in utter despair. Lucas looked just as devastated, and suddenly, the whole situation seemed too ridiculous for words.

“Come on,” Eliott said. “Let’s find a more secluded place.”

Lucas nodded, his eyes big, and they left the balcony hand in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me a comment, pretty please?
> 
> <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: "I’m dying and I’m confessing my love for you"
> 
> <3

All in all, Lucas had to admit, it hadn’t been too horrible.

A kitschy Christmas market in the dead of winter would not have been on his list of potential great first dates, but he had been waiting for years for Eliott Demaury to ask him out, so he had accepted anyway, although with a healthy dose of apprehension.

But it had been fine. Fun, even.

He did put that down in large parts to the handsome boy walking quietly next to him.

It had been a bit kitschy, granted, but the market place had also looked quite pretty, with the wooden stalls covered in fresh snow.

They had walked over the quaint square, lit by the soft glow of dozens of old-fashioned lanterns, and the smell of pine and lit candles had been relaxing enough to make Lucas forget he was wearing three hoodies under his coat against the freezing cold. They had snacked on greasy, sugary beignets and drunk mulled wine, and Eliott had held Lucas’ hands to keep them warm. They’d stood watching the carol singers for a while, Lucas safely tucked into Eliott’s side with Eliott’s arm over his shoulder. Eliott had found a twig of mistletoe that had fallen out one of the boughs on one of the stalls, and for a breathtaking second Lucas had thought he would hold it up over their heads, but then he had thought better of it, and put it in his pocket, smiling at Lucas. Lucas had been disappointed for a second, but then he saw the mischief sparkling in Eliott’s infinite grey eyes, and he had hoped Eliott planned on using it later. He didn’t really want their first kiss to be in public, anyway.

By the time it had gone completely dark, it had started snowing again, and Lucas felt all warm and glowy inside. The warmth came from Eliott’s smile, the way he said Lucas’ name, his fingers which danced over Lucas’ arm. The glow came from the anticipation of Eliott walking him home, through the dark and silent Parisian alleys, where there were a hundred quiet corners to make out in.

So now they were walking next to each other, close enough for their hands to brush with every step they took. The butterflies in Lucas’ stomach had multiplied inexplicably, and were fluttering around madly.

The falling snow made it seem like they were all alone in the world, and blocked out the sounds of the bustling city.

As they approached the old bridge over the Seine, the butterflies got jittery. They were almost at Lucas’ flat, and the moment he had been dreaming of was coming closer.

Later, he’d blame it on the patch of ice on the bridge, disguised by the thin layer of snow, in combination with the third mulled wine. He never admitted to anybody it was because he was looking at Eliott’s profile in the moonlight and fantasizing about how his lips would taste.

Either way, whatever the reason, suddenly Lucas slipped on the slight slope of the bridge, sliding all the way down and hitting his head against the low wall.

So much for impressing Eliott with his smoothness, he thought, as he crawled up into a sitting position. Good thing he had been wearing his thick woolen beanie, he mused, as he felt around the back of his head for a bump.

His back hurt, his head hurt, his tailbone hurt, and he felt like the biggest ass ever.

Eliott was with him in a second, hovering over him, touching his temple with cool fingers.

“Lucas? Oh my god, are you okay?”

And just like that, all the warm fuzziness left Lucas and he felt all the cold and ache hit him all at once.

“Does it look like I’m okay?”, he asked, sarcasm lacing his voice, his grumpiness taking over.

“I’m fucking gonna die on a freezing bridge and I didn’t even get to kiss my date. So no, I’m not okay, what did you think?”

Eliott stared at Lucas for a long beat, and then – then he threw his head back and started laughing.

Fuck that.

Lucas could be bleeding out here, or freeze to death, and Eliott thought that was funny?

“You done there enjoying my misery?”, he growled.

“I’m – I’m sorry –”, Eliott managed to choke out, between bouts of laughter.

“Seriously!”, Lucas nearly yelled. “I’m dying here, and confessing my love for you, and you just laugh?”

That seemed to do the trick. Eliott stopped laughing so abruptly he nearly choked, and he hacked out a cough to get his breathing back under control.

“Well?”, Lucas demanded. The snow was slowly seeping through all his layers, and he was ready to get home and forget all about this.

“Confessing your love?”, Eliott asked, slowly.

“What about it?”, Lucas growled. When was Eliott gonna help him up and get him home, so he could get into bed and try to erase the past five minutes from his brain?

“I didn’t hear you confess your love for me,” Eliott said, staring straight at Lucas, dead serious.

Oh.

Lucas thought back on their conversation. He supposed he hadn’t really said it in so many words, had he?

Fuck.

He stared at Eliott, his eyes open wide, and Eliott stared back. A long beat passed, and they just remained where they were. Lucas forgot the icy snow trickling down his back, with Eliott crouched low over him, looking at him as if he was the only thing that mattered on the whole planet.

“Would you like to?”, Eliott whispered, his voice low and deep, his eyes dropping to Lucas’ lips for a short moment.

“Like to what?”, Lucas replied, his voice barely a whisper.

“Confess your love for me,” Eliott said breathlessly. His hand went to his pocket, and came out holding the bruised twig of mistletoe, fiddling it around between his fingers. Lucas watched the movement, hypnotized.

“I think I would, yeah,” he mumbled, not daring to look at Eliott, focusing his gaze on the small plant.

He watched Eliott lift the green branch, moving his arm so he could hold it over their heads.

“Great,” he said as a smile appeared on his face. Lucas swore the snow melted with the force of it.

He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Eliott leaning in closer, so close he felt the other boy’s lips move against his own when he spoke next.

“Because so would I…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me a comment, pretty please?
> 
> <3


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: “You’ve got something on your lip, here let me.”
> 
> <3

He would never admit to it, but Lucas is nervous as hell. He is supposed to meet some guy for a blind date in an hour, and he is literally shaking.

It’s just he’s never really been on a date before, at least not with a guy, and Daphné has been hyping up this guy so much Lucas already feels like he’s way out of his league before he even has a chance to embarrass himself in person.

That is why he finds himself in a bar, three doors down from the nice coffee shop where he is supposed to meet Denis, to get some liquid courage inside him. He almost throws himself onto the nearest bar stool, and hides his face between his forearms.

An amused laugh floats towards him from the other side of the bar, and without looking up, he groans, “Something strong, please.”

The bartender chuckles again, and soon a big hand appears in Lucas’ field of vision and a tumbler is placed in front of him. Lucas chugs half of the amber liquid back in one gulp, and chokes at the burning sensation in his throat. Fuck, he thought Emma’s potent mixes had made him immune to alcohol, but apparently strong meant strong in this bar.

The bartender chuckles again.

“Rough day?”, he asks sympathetically.

“The rough part is yet to come,” Lucas moans, finally looking up – and fuck.

Yeah. The rough part has just started.

Lucas didn’t know he had a type before – but now he can describe his type perfectly. In fact, he can take a picture of it. Maybe he should. Show it to Daphné, so she would know what to look out for next time she sets him up. Although Lucas doubts even Daphné would be able to find another fine specimen of man like the guy looking at Lucas expectantly, with laughter crinkling around his eyes. Lucas desperately wishes for some more light, so he could make out their colour – although maybe that is of no importance, when the intensity in them is enough to topple down men far stronger than Lucas could ever hope to be.

“You wanna talk about it?” Tall-And-Sexy asks. “I’m a bartender, that’s as good as a shrink. Oh, and the name is Eliott, by the way.”

“Lucas,” Lucas manages to supply, and he is honestly astonished his voice still seems to function, and apparently, he is also still breathing.

“Lucas,” the guy – Eliott – repeats. “So what about it, huh? Wanna tell me all about the rough part?”

“Uh.”

Lucas stutters, and takes another gulp of his glass, ignoring the fire in his mouth this time.

“Whoa,” Eliott laughs. “Maybe take it slow?”

“I rather think I’ll need another,” Lucas mutters darkly.

Eliott raises an eyebrow, but Lucas just stares at him defiantly. He has lots of practice staring Imane down, so Eliott really doesn’t stand a chance, Lucas reasons – and he is proven right when Eliott pours some more firewater in Lucas’ glass.

“Maybe you should eat something too, though,” he suggests, and Lucas shrugs. He doesn’t think eating is a good idea, what with his stomach doing somersaults already, but if it’ll make Eliott happy, he could probably try.

Eliott shouts something to the kitchen, and turns back towards Lucas. Business is slow – not many people hang out in bars on Tuesday evenings before dark, it seems.

“All yours,” Eliott says with a smirk, and wow – Lucas didn’t know his imagination was so overactive. His mind goes dirty immediately, taking Eliott’s words a bit too literal.

He shakes his head – right. Denis.

With a shudder, he confesses, “I have a blind date, and I’m fucking panicking.”

Eliott hums in understanding.

As if, Lucas thinks. As if a man looking like _that_ ever needed to worry about blind dates. He drinks a bit more, and maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but it seems the alcohol glides down a lot smoother already.

“I see,” Eliott says, as he put some fried food in front of Lucas. “Are you meeting her here, then? I could help.”

Lucas looks at the greasy bar food, and decided he really better stays far away from it.

“I am meeting _him_ in a coffee shop down the street,” he says, strangely anxious about Eliott’s reaction to the male pronoun.

“Ah, classic coffee shop first date,” Eliott says, not commenting on the pronoun at all. “I can’t help you out then, unless you wanna call him and change the venue?”

Lucas ponders it, but honestly – having a date is nerve-wracking enough, having to be rescued from making a complete fool of himself by the hottest guy in France would be an entirely other level of humiliation, so he shakes his head.

“Okay, too bad,” Eliott says. “But at least I can try to take your mind off it for now, right?”

“Yeah, sure”, Lucas agrees, taking another sip. “And keep these coming.”

Eliott laughs.

“One more, then,” he says pleasantly, and reaches for the bottle. “You don’t wanna be drunk on your date.” He ignores Lucas’ scoff. “Mind if I join you?” He grabs another glass without waiting for Lucas’ answer, and pours himself three fingers. “To your date,” he toasts, raising his glass, and Lucas does the same.

They take a sip, and sit in silence for a few minutes.

“Okay, distracting you from your doom,” Eliott says. “Maybe I should tell you about my latest project for my painting class, that should do the trick.”

And Lucas, who always hated everything about art, listens with rapt interest to Eliott talking about his work. Okay, fine – he listens with half an ear, while he is mesmerized by the wide smile on Eliott’s face, the broad gestures he makes with those large hands, the way his eyes sparkled even in the low light of the bar.

With such a great view, surely it is entirely excusable that Lucas forgets all about his previous appointment, until he catches sight of the clock.

“Oh, fuck,” he exclaims, interrupting one of Eliott’s stories. “I have to go. I am late already.”

“Ah, yeah, the date,” Eliott states solemnly.

“Yeah, the date,” Lucas breathes. He doesn’t really want to go – but it’s not like he could just hang out here listening to Eliott forever.

“Good luck,” Eliott says with a smile.

Lucas nods, and stands up.

“Oh, wait!”, Eliott calls. “You have something on your lip. Can’t make a bad first impression, right? Here, just let me.”

And Lucas freezes as he watches Eliott lean over the bar, stretch his muscled arm out towards Lucas’ face, and brushes a tender finger on his lip.

He knows he is blushing fiercely, and Eliott stares at Lucas’ mouth.

“No, it’s not gone yet. Wait.”

Eliott leans in even more, closer, closer still, until he is almost laying on the bar, and he grabs Lucas’ jaw. And yet closer he moves, until – until his tongue darts out and he licks at whatever Lucas has on his lip.

And then he realizes.

He never even touched any of the food.

Eliott is looking at him, centimeters away, with a smirk on his beautiful face.

Dos this mean Eliott just wanted to touch Lucas? He stares back, and Eliott seems to blush just a bit – it is hard to see.

“Did you –”

Lucas stammers, but when he notices how blown Eliott’s pupils are, and how fast he is breathing, he suddenly knows. He is not the only one affected by this, and Eliott is waiting for a signal from Lucas to proceed.

“Did you get it?” His voice is breathless.

“No,” Eliott whispers. “I will need to kiss it off.”

“Hmmmmm,” Lucas pretends to mull it over. “But I have a date.”

“Cancel it,” Eliott replies, as he presses his lips on Lucas’. And Lucas would, if he wasn’t currently rather more pleasantly occupied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me a comment, pretty please?
> 
> <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: "We literally ran into each other"
> 
> Warning: not so fluffy, lots of angsty stuff.
> 
> <3

Lucas got to the supermarket at ten to eight, out of breath from running. Ever since he broke up with Didier, he had needed to adapt to doing his own grocery shopping again, and frankly, he had resorted to ordering take-out six nights out of seven for the last few weeks. But now he had run out of coffee, and he was on his last roll of toilet paper, so he needed to come in for the essentials. It was just that his long hours – which had, ironically, caused the final row with Didier in the first place – made it nearly impossible to get here on time.

As he rushed through the aisles, frantically trying to remember what he had to buy, he pondered how he had let things get so out of hand. He had settled into a job he hated, with a demanding boss expecting him to stay late every night and more often than not called him in on the weekends too. He had been with Didier for years, ever since their university days, even though Lucas had never really been in love with him. It was just convenient. But when Didier had started to hint at wanting more – move in together, commit to each other, plan for a family at some point – Lucas had distanced himself, and when the fights became more and more a regular occurrence, he hadn’t found the energy or even the desire to try to work things out. When Didier had finally had enough and broke up with him, he hadn’t even felt sad. It was honestly a bit liberating, even, to not have to pretend anymore. He felt guilty about not having the courage to break up with Didier sooner, to string him along like that – but it had just happened. One day they started dating, and the next day five years had passed and they were on very different pages.

The lights flickered in the supermarket, and somebody announced in a tired voice that they were closing in three minutes and to please make for the check-out registers.

Lucas started for them, when he suddenly realized he didn’t grab coffee. He turned on his heels and half ran to the back of the store, where the coffee had been last time he had set foot in this store. He wasn’t paying attention, and when he turned the corner, he slammed into a tall body. He dropped his basket, and he heard a grunt escape from the other guy. He started uttering an apology while picking up his basket, hoping nothing had broken, conscious of the time running and still needing to find the coffee.

Then he suddenly heard a voice he didn’t think he’d ever hear again, a voice he would recognize everywhere.

“Lucas? Lucas Lallemant? Is that really you?”

Lucas froze mid-movement. He slowly lifted his eyes – dreading what he would see.

In front of him, in all his gorgeous glory, looking even hotter than eight years ago, stood Eliott Demaury.

In a flash, Lucas was back in high school, crazily in love with the new boy, kissing him one magic night in the rain. Eliott had been his first kiss, the first guy he had loved. Oh hell, who was he kidding – the only guy he had ever loved. Lucas had been confused for weeks, when Eliott had kissed his ex at a party only a few days after he had told Lucas he had broken up with her, then leaving Lucas a bunch of cryptic drawings. Eventually, they had stopped coming, and later on, Lucas had heard from someone that Eliott was bipolar, so he had put their ultrashort affair down to Eliott being manic.

Not that it had been easy to forget about the tall boy with the grey eyes. Eliott had haunted his dreams for months, and it had taken Lucas years to get back into the game. And then he had met Didier, who was tall and had messy hair, and Lucas had known it was not the smartest move to get together with somebody who vaguely resembled Eliott, as some sort of ersatz, but he had gone with it anyway.

Standing here in front of Eliott it was a miracle he didn’t forget to breathe. Eliott looked at him as if he had seen a ghost, and they just stood there, staring at each other, until a harried-looking employee came towards them.

“Excuse me, gentlemen, it is five after eight, we really need to close now.”

She shepherded them both to the register lane, and Eliott went first, paying for his purchases, and waiting on the other side. Lucas wished he would just go, he didn’t want to talk to Eliott, he didn’t feel like getting back into that insane infatuation from all those years ago – it had taken him long enough to get over it the first time around. He didn’t want to “catch up” or “rekindle their friendship” or whatever – he wanted to go home and wallow in self-pity. And to add insult to injury, when he was bagging his groceries, he realized he still didn’t have any coffee.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, noticing too late that Eliott had stepped closer to him.

“Everything okay?”, came Eliott’s voice, careful, neutral.

Lucas felt anger rise in his throat, but he didn’t want to make a scene. Eliott didn’t need to know how affected Lucas was by this chance encounter.

“I didn’t get to grab coffee, and I’m all out,” he gritted through his teeth.

Eliott nodded, and seemed to waver about what to say next.

“I have coffee at home… Do you want to – I mean – or go to a café with me –”, he stammered, and Lucas threw him a thoroughly unimpressed look.

“Your girlfriend might be upset if you start bringing men home. Especially men you’ve kissed.”

Fuck, he berated himself. Why did he bring that up? They could have pretended for the next thirty seconds they were just old schoolmates, but no, Lucas had to broach the subject of their awkward fling.

“Girlfriend? What girlfriend?”, Eliott said, blushing slightly, probably because Lucas mentioned their kiss. He probably had forgotten all about that, until Lucas reminded him. He probably regretted staying and trying to talk to Lucas now. Well, all the better, Lucas thought. The faster they could get this over with, the happier Lucas would be.

“Ah, sorry. I assumed you were still with Lucille. My mistake”, he said, as politely as he could muster, and grabbed his coffeeless bag as he turned to go. He would go home and get into bed and forget all about this day.

“Wait, what?”, Eliott called after him. “Lucas, wait a second!”

Lucas wanted to keep going, he really did, but Eliott’s legs were longer than his, so unless he started running, it would be to no avail. He sighed, and stopped walking. Eliott came up to him, and because Lucas was staring at the pavement, he saw how Eliott shuffled his feet.

“Why would I be with Lucille? I told you I broke up with her.”

Lucas looked up at that, the anger threatening to erupt in full force. His eyes were icy when he stared straight at Eliott, who seemed genuinely confused.

“Yeah, you did, but when I saw you sticking your tongue down her throat only a few days later, I assumed you had changed your mind.”

He took a strange kind of pleasure in watching the colour drain from Eliott’s cheeks.

“You saw that?”, Eliott breathed, and Lucas only nodded.

“Fuck,” Eliott said, almost to himself.

They stood in silence for a long beat.

“Lucas, I’m sorry about that. I was… confused, and trying to sort out some things… But didn’t you get my messages, then? I – I left you a few drawings in your backpack… I wanted – I wanted…”

“You wanted what, Eliott?”

Lucas heard the harshness in his voice, but honestly, he was exhausted, and he really didn’t want to do a post mortem on their… relationship, or whatever the word for it was.

“You told me you broke up with Lucille, then you kissed her as if nothing was wrong between you, and then you left me all those drawings. I have no idea what you wanted, Eliott.”

He should leave. He should lie to Eliott, say that his boyfriend was waiting for him. He should go home, write a letter of resignation for his asshole of a boss, get over Eliott once and for all, find somebody else to love, and finally start living.

“I wanted to talk to you, Lucas, I wanted to apologize, to tell you why – Look, everything was so beautiful when I was with you, and I was so fucking afraid of ruining things unintentionally I ruined them intentionally, but I regretted it as soon as it happened. I just – I just wanted to beg you to give me another chance, without any secrets between us. I – I… God. I was so fucking in love with you.”

The last words were breathed out so softly Lucas had to strain to hear them, almost as if Eliott hadn’t meant to admit that out loud.

“I didn’t know that,” he said pensively, softly. He wondered how he felt about knowing that it had been real for Eliott, as short-lived as it had been. It was bittersweet, realizing they both had been in love with one another, and yet, they hadn’t made it.

“I should have told you,” Eliott replied, even softer than before, then louder, “I should have told you, Lucas. You deserved to know. There is a lot I should have told you… But when you didn’t reach out after I left you those notes, I figured out it didn’t mean as much to you as it did to me, so I backed off. But now you know, at least.”

He sounded sad, Lucas thought. And the idea of Eliott thinking it hadn’t meant anything to Lucas left a sour taste in his mouth.

“It did mean the same to me, though. I – I was in love with you too.”

It wasn’t easy to force out those words, to confess to his feelings out loud, but maybe this could be the closure he needed after years of wondering and pining.

“You were?”, Eliott breathed, unbelieving.

Lucas nodded, and Eliott’s eyes lit up for the briefest of moments, before they dulled again.

“Oh, God. I really fucked up, didn’t I?”, he said, and his voice was laced with so much pain and sadness Lucas almost reached out for him.

“It’s okay,” he said. It wasn’t really, but it would have to be. “I fucked up too. It’s fine, though. It was a long time ago.”

Eliott looked at him, a storm blowing through his grey eyes. Lucas wished he could read them, but he hadn’t been able to decipher Eliott’s emotions back then, so it was futile to try now.

“It may have been a long time ago, but –”

He cut himself off, looking away from Lucas.

Lucas didn’t know why his heart suddenly started beating erratically, why he took a tiny step closer towards Eliott, why he put a shaking hand on Eliott’s arm. Eliott’s eyes whipped towards it, looking at Lucas’ hand touching his bare skin as if it was a mirage.

“But what?”, Lucas whispered, afraid of the answer, afraid of the tempest brewing inside him, afraid of letting Eliott walk out of his life again, afraid of never being able to love anybody else.

“But that doesn’t mean it’s over,” Eliott finally answered, after a long silence. His words hung heavy over them, like a pressure front coming in from over the ocean, moving too fast to predict the outcome.

Lucas stared at Eliott until Eliott looked back at him.

“What – what are you saying?”, he asked, not letting go of Eliott’s arm, trying to stare into his very soul.

“I never stopped loving you, Lucas.”

The answer came fast this time, and Eliott’s voice was calm, steady. He looked straight at Lucas, unwavering, certain of his words.

Something inside Lucas shifted. A chasm he hadn’t known was there closed within him, and he felt old wounds heal.

He couldn’t control the future and he couldn’t change the past, but he had a choice right here and now. Maybe he and Eliott weren’t meant to be back then. Maybe they weren’t mean to be ever. But he had loved the man in front of him for years, ever since he first saw him, and it seemed he had been loved for just as long, and maybe that meant something. Maybe it meant everything.

He took a deep breath.

He smiled at Eliott, and slowly, tentatively, Eliott smiled back, his sunny smile that Lucas hadn’t seen in years but that still made him feel like he was invincible.

“I’d like to come with you for that coffee, please,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me a comment, pretty please?
> 
> <3


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: "Overhearing they have feelings for you"
> 
> <3

Lucas needed a break. He loved studying with Imane, because she was ruthlessly efficient and didn’t give up before she was confident they both had thoroughly mastered the material, but damn, she was on fire today. They’d been at it for over two hours and Lucas desperately wanted some fresh air and a cup of hot tea.

Imane hadn’t been against tea, but she hadn’t wanted to go to the kitchen to get it, because Idriss’ friends were hanging out there. That had caused a bit of a battle, because the two of them had similar but very different reasons to avoid Idriss’ friends – they both turned into stuttering, blushing messes around the objects of their affection. They joked about it, teased each other endlessly, and encouraged each other to just go for it, but neither of them ever followed the advice of the other. The crux of the matter was that Imane didn’t want to run into Sofiane any more than Lucas wanted to run into Eliott.

They had, very childishly, retorted to paper rock scissors, and Lucas, to his dismay, had lost.

Which was why he was now sneaking up to the kitchen, hoping Idriss and his friends were outside kicking a ball or whatever they usually did, and he could grab some mugs and some tea without any of them noticing.

No such luck, however, it seemed, when he got within earshot and could hear the boys talking inside the kitchen.

He stopped walking to take a deep breath and prepare himself for the overwhelming feeling he always experienced when he was confronted with Eliott’s otherworldly beauty and sunshine smile, when he suddenly heard his name.

“Really, man, it’s becoming ridiculous, you always hanging out here when Lucas is studying with Imane. I don’t know why you just don’t ask him out. What’s the worst that can happen?”

That was Idriss’ voice. Lucas’ heart frog leaped into his throat, beating wildly. What was going on? Who should ask Lucas out? Oh, god, please don’t let have Sofiane have a crush on me, he thought, worried about how he would have to break the news to Imane. In a flash, he saw how the tanned boy always smiled so kindly at Lucas, how he made a point to ask how his studies went, how he helped Lucas find the sugar last time he’d been sent for tea from the living room. He started panicking. Imane’s crush could not be into him. His brain screamed at him to turn around, not to wait for the inevitable confirmation that would devastate his friend, but he was rooted to the spot in horror.

Then he heard another voice.

“I can’t, Idriss. He’s not interested. I couldn’t deal with the rejection.”

That – that was… not Sofiane.

That was – that was Eliott’s voice.

“So you’d rather pine from a distance than taking a risk?”

Lucas strained to hear the answer. It was wrong, he knew, but he needed to know.

“Fuck. It’s complicated…”

Eliott sounded frustrated, but Idriss wasn’t the type to give up easily.

“It’s really not. You ask him out. He either says yes and you guys become one of those disgusting couples who are always touching within two weeks, or he says no and you can finally move on to greener pastures.”

“I don’t want to move on to greener pastures. I’m not sure such a thing exists, even. Have you looked at him?”

“I have. He’s good looking, I’ll give you that, but he’s not the first good looking guy you’ve met. Why are you so hung up on him?”

“Because – because…”

Eliott’s voice was now tinged with helpless honesty.

“Because I really think he might be the one. I know it’s crazy…”

Lucas didn’t understand the rest of the conversation, because his blood pounded in his ears and his heart beat so loudly he was sure Imane could hear it all the way over in the living room.

Eliott was into him? They couldn’t have been talking about another Lucas, could they? Imane didn’t have another study buddy with the same name, did she? It would be too big of a coincidence.

So did that mean… Eliott was into him? Eliott came over to hang with Idriss when he knew Lucas would be around? Eliott – Eliott thought Lucas might be the one?

A grin appeared slowly on Lucas’ face, when he worked through what he overheard.

He took the few remaining steps to the kitchen door, confidently, loud enough to alert whoever was in the kitchen to his arrival.

When he stepped into the cozy room, Idriss and Sofiane were discussing yesterday’s soccer matches, while Eliott was sitting quietly at the table, giving Lucas one of his sunshine smiles, which seemed just a bit restrained.

Lucas’ heart summersaulted.

“Hi, Lucas! How are you? Studying going well?” Sofiane asked, but Lucas barely paid him any attention.

“Uh, yeah, fine. Actually, though, Imane wanted to ask the two of you something…”, he muttered vaguely, indicating Idriss and Sofiane. He would get chewed out by Imane later for sending Sofiane to her, but it was an emergency.

Lucas didn’t miss the look that passed between Idriss and Sofiane.

“Sure, let’s go, Sof,” the former said as he stood up, grabbing Sofiane by the arm.

“Uh, wait, I’ll just come along too –”

Eliott couldn’t finish his sentence, as three voices simultaneously said ‘No’.

Idriss gazed at Lucas curiously, but quickly decided he’d get the full story later and retreated with Sofiane in tow.

Eliott stared at Lucas nervously.

“Uh – hi…”

Lucas smiled so brightly he thought his jaw would dislocate if he kept it up. Eliott was adorable. He thought Idriss might have been on to something, with his prediction of them becoming one of those couples who were glued together. He breathed in deeply and went all in.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date with me?”

The unrestrained sunshine smile he got in response was answer enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am currently only operating on comments, so don't forget to leave one. :)
> 
> <3


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: "I’m scared but won’t admit it so you take my hand"
> 
> <3

It doesn’t matter how often he denies it, Lucas is afraid of the dark. And as if winter isn’t bad enough – cold, snow, ice, and happy families celebrating the holidays, reminding him he doesn’t have a happy family to celebrate with – it also comes with darkness. It is dark when he leaves his flat in the morning, and dark when he comes home again in the evening. Even if he leaves a small lamp on in the living room, he hates arriving at a dark house. He hates walking through the murky alleys. He hates climbing the dark stairway in which the lightbulbs are broken by kids playing soccer faster than the janitor can replace them. He hates everything about it.

And so when, after a particularly gruesome day at work – okay, he’ll be the first to admit he did make a small mistake, but it had in no way been bad enough to warrant the insults his boss had thrown his way –, he opens his front door and clicks the light switch, only to be met with a spark, a hiss, and the telltale click of all electrical appliances shutting off, he nearly sinks down against the door and cries.

He has candles somewhere, and flashlights, and his phone, but it is not enough. The December dark is too big to be chased away with some tiny flames and a flickering flashlight. This calls for drastic measures.

And so Lucas turns around, locks the door again, and braves the cold and the dark again to go over to Eliott’s – whose flat, when Lucas gets there, is brightly lit and toasty warm. Not that Lucas is surprised, because Eliott is the sun personified.

But Lucas’ luck has well and truly run out, it seems, because when Eliott opens the door for him, he is bundled up in a coat and a scarf and a hat, ready to go out.

“Hey, Lucas,” he says, surprise evident on his pretty face, “did I forget you were coming by?”

And suddenly Lucas is painfully aware that he should have called first. They are friends, Eliott and he, but they’re not at the ‘coming-by-whenever-unannounced’ level. And here Lucas is, standing on the doorstep, with this vague plan of asking Eliott if he can stay, because his electricity is not working. Stupid, he scolds himself silently.

“Uh, no, sorry,” he stammers out loud, “I just thought we could hang out, but you obviously have plans, so…”

He lets his sentence trail off. He always feels a bit intimidated by Eliott, who is so confident and charming. He wonders why Eliott would even want to be friends with Lucas, who is – well, just Lucas.

“Or you could just come with!”, Eliott exclaims, full of exuberance and enthusiasm. “I was gonna take a walk to check out the Christmas lights everywhere.”

Ugh. Lucas doesn’t really think voluntarily going out into the cold and the dark sounds like fun, and Christmas is just a commercial thing anyway, right? But Eliott is bouncing with hardly contained joy, and the alternative is a dark flat which may be warmer than the Paris streets, but has no Eliott. Lucas quickly balances his options against each other, and with a last look at Eliott, who has stars in his eyes and a wide grin on his face, he gives in.

And Lucas has to admit, wandering through the crisp winter air with Eliott, watching the Christmas displays, might not be the worst way to spend a December evening.

But then Eliott suddenly starts fumbling with a small, rusty gate, and he beckons Lucas to follow him. Lucas does so, after only a flash minute of deliberation – because well, it beats staying behind alone, right? But Eliott has moved way ahead, and Lucas doesn’t know where they are, and it is so dark. He hears noises he can’t interpret, and when he feels something against his arm – which, rationally, he knows is probably a branch moving with the wind – he can’t help but let out a high yelp.

Embarrassed, he claps his hand in front of his mouth, but Eliott must have heard anyway, because he retreats his steps hastily.

“Lucas? Everything okay?”

Lucas feels his cheeks burn, but he hopes Eliott won’t be able to see.

“You’re not afraid of the dark, are you?”, Eliott says, a teasing lilt in his voice, and shrugs.

“And if I was?”, he retorts with a clear challenge in the words.

“Then I would do this,” Eliott replies after a few beats, softly, and before Lucas realizes what is going one, Eliott has grabbed Lucas’ hand and holds it tightly.

“Come on,” he continues. Lucas wonders if he imagines the slight tremor in his friend’s voice. “It’s not far.”

They continue, and maybe Lucas’ eyes get used to the dark, or maybe it’s Eliott’s fingers intertwining themselves with Lucas’, but it doesn’t seem so frightening anymore. Lucas tries to make out Eliott’s face, but it is too dark to see anything but shadows. He lets his thoughts wander. He thinks about the day he met Eliott in the library, the older boy sitting across Lucas with an apologetic smile, mumbling something about no free tables. About how Eliott had come up to him in the park a few days later, ignored Lucas’ confused smile, and greeted him with a cheery “Hey, study buddy” as if they are long lost friends. About how after the fourth or fifth time Eliott had waved at him from across the hallway, he’d asked Lucas for his name, so he wouldn’t have to call him study buddy any longer. How Eliott had started following Lucas on Instagram a few days after that. He runs their whole short acquaintance through his mind, and then Eliott stops and opens his arms wide, as if to present something awesome to Lucas.

It is an old concrete tunnel, and Lucas shivers. It will be dark and cold and damp and he really doesn’t want to crawl in there, but in the dim light, he can see how excited Eliott is.

And then Eliott crouches down, opens his backpack, and starts placing tealights all over the place, lighting them one by one.

Lucas cannot help but stare, mesmerized, at the sea of light Eliott is creating. It drives away all the eerie shadows and is enough to illuminate even the furthest corners and crevasses. It is beautiful, all these tiny lights coming together in this warm glow. And when Eliott lights the last one and looks up at Lucas from his crouched position, his smile wide and his eyes sparkling, Lucas feels like another lightbulb suddenly flicks on above his head.

Because Eliott is beautiful. Lucas knew this, obviously, but it hits him like a sledgehammer all of a sudden – not just a quick, objective, passing appreciation of conventional beauty, but rather all the unique parts that make up Eliott and that etch themselves onto Lucas’ heart with a wistful ache. The flames reflect in his big eyes, and Lucas realizes that they are the warmest shade of grey he has ever witnessed, with blue swirls and green flacks like some sort of impressionist painting. Lucas closes his eyes for a second, blinded by the intensity of Eliott’s, and when he opens them again, Eliott has stood up, and the moment seems lost – but Lucas knows he will never look at Eliott the same again.

“Let’s sit,” Eliott says, and Lucas cannot refuse, and so they sit, leaning against the wall, surrounded by candlelight, and Lucas’ head swims with sudden realization.

It all makes so much sense now – why he wanted to go to Eliott when he needed light and warmth, when he needed to feel safe. Why he would follow Eliott into the dark without hesitation. Why Eliott’s hand soothes his fears.

And when Eliott looks at him with impossible soft eyes, Lucas feels like his heart might explode, and so he blurts out the first thing he can think of.

“I’ve always hated Christmas.”

Eliott startles, but then settles against the wall again, and his hand creeps closer to Lucas’. They almost touch, and the phantom sensation makes Lucas shiver.

“Are you cold?”, Eliott asks, and without waiting for Lucas’ answer, he pulls Lucas into a hug.

One heart-stopping moment, Lucas freezes, but then he settles into it, moulding his figure to Eliott’s, his head on Eliott’s shoulder. He closes his eyes, and wills himself to be calm. Breathe.

“I love it,” Eliott then says, and Lucas thinks Eliott means their new position, but he continues, “it’s so beautiful, with all the lights everywhere, and the decoration, and people celebrating together. The Christmas songs. The food. People trying to find each other the perfect gifts.”

Lucas shrugs, but doesn’t speak.

“Why do you hate it?”

And maybe it is because Eliott cannot see his face right now, or because of the strange intimacy in the candlelit tunnel, or because of his new-found feelings for Eliott, but either way, Lucas starts speaking, his voice low, but honest.

“It was never a cause for celebration when I was a kid. My family definitely wasn’t trying to find each other the perfect gift. My dad would be off from work, and he would fight with my mom all the time… And when I got older, my mom got worse, and my dad would just leave the house for days on end. And he became more and more disappointed in me – for not being in any sports team, or some other inane reason… He’d yell at me, yell at my mom. And then he left, and my mom was so depressed she couldn’t even leave her bed most of the time. It was so hard, taking care of her. I was just a child myself. And then she had to be hospitalized, and I lived on my own for a while, and things were tough. And at Christmas it just became even harder, watching everybody else be happy and cosy together…”

His voice trails off, and he laughs, small, self-deprecative.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be such a downer. I promise I’m not so gloomy usually. It’s just, well, I’m probably spending the holidays alone again this year, because Yann is going to celebrate with his family, so I’m not looking forward to it. But enough about that. Let’s talk about something else.”

Eliott is silent for a while, and Lucas regrets opening his mouth. Eliott brought him here to this magical place, and Lucas had to spoil it all by being such a negative Nancy. He is panicking, trying frantically to lighten the mood, to take back what he said, when Eliott’s voice suddenly reverberates through the tunnel.

“You could spend the holidays with me, if you want.”

Lucas lifts his head and stares at Eliott.

“What?”, he asks, certain he misheard. “Why?”

Eliott shrugs. Lucas looks at him, at his expressive face – is that uncertainty he sees in those grey eyes?

“Why not? I want to spend more time with you.”

“But we’ve only known each other for a few months… We’re not even all that close,” Lucas hears himself say, even though he wants to accept so badly. “Isn’t Christmas something to be celebrated with family?”

Eliott looks away, and his voice is low, but it echoes through the tunnel.

“We could become closer. I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

Lucas sits very still. Eliott’s arm is still around him, and he feels Eliott still after he speaks.

Lucas’ mind goes back to what he was pondering about earlier, as they walked hand in hand through the dark. About how Eliott had sought out Lucas time after time. About how he smiles at Lucas sometimes, as if Lucas holds all the secrets of the universe. About how he held Lucas’ hand when Lucas was afraid of the dark, and sheltered Lucas from the cold, and now offers to protect Lucas from his own bad memories and a lonely Christmas.

And Lucas forgets about December. Eliott is July – is warmth and sunshine and freshly made lemonade and the smell of cut grass and vanilla ice cream.

And when Eliott finally turns to face Lucas again, Lucas’ smile is wide and open.

“How close?”, he says, moving into Eliott’s space. He can feel Eliott’s breath on his lips, and his smile grows impossibly bigger.

And Eliott’s eyes are full of stars when he leans in, and shows Lucas exactly how close without words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in case you wanted to tell me something, there is a comment box right below.
> 
> <3


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: “Good morning, beautiful/handsome”
> 
> <3

It feels like a marching band is practicing inside Lucas’ skull – and unfortunately, it isn’t even a _good_ marching band. He really should stop letting Emma convince him to try out her deadly potions. The last thing he remembers is some frenzied dancing, when she had handed him a neon pink drink, which he had gulped back in one go. He has no clue how he even got home, or when.

God. The throbbing in his skull gets worse with every move he makes, however minute – but he also really needs to pee, and his tongue is parched. Some water sounds like heaven – it might also help with the nasty taste of dead bird against his palate.

He lies there for a few minutes, groaning and lamenting his lot in life, until his bladder becomes too much to ignore any longer, and with herculean effort, he drags himself to the bathroom, when suddenly he hears noise in the kitchen. Yann is away with his parents for the weekend, so – who the fuck is in there, clanking with pots and pans?

It speaks volumes as to the state of Lucas’ hangover, that his first reaction isn’t fear, but rage. Whoever the fuck is in there needs to _be the fuck quiet_ , or Lucas will rip their head off. He stomps into the tiny kitchen, ready to lay down the law, when all the wind is knocked out of him.

There, wearing nothing but boxers, stands Eliott, humming happily and stirring – Lucas cannot pay too much attention to the contents of the pan, for fear of getting even more nauseous than he already is.

His stomping must have been loud enough to be heard above Eliott’s humming, because the latter turns around, and beams at Lucas like the sun itself.

“Good morning handsome! I was making you breakfast… wanted to bring it to you in bed. I didn’t think you’d be up so soon.”

He winks at Lucas, and Lucas – fuck. Lucas feels all the blood drain from his face, his heart is banging painfully against his ribs and he cannot breathe.

He takes it all in in a fraction of a second – Eliott in his kitchen, early in the morning – coincidentally, looking gorgeous in the soft light, but that is no surprise – in his boxers, and Lucas, mercifully also in his underwear, but it’s a tiny mercy, as mercies go – and then it dooms up, a freight train thundering through his brain, and – god. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Please, don’t let this be what it looks like.

“Uh –”, he stammers, forcing his leathery tongue and cracked lips to move, “what – what are you doing here?”

Eliott raises his eyebrows.

“You don’t remember?” He puts his hand over his heart, just under his tattoo – Lucas stares at it, and god, he can’t help it, but all he can think of is run his tongue over it – and mimics being fatally wounded. “Best night of my life, and you don’t remember it?”

Fuck. Lucas wants to die where he stands.

It would be _just_ his luck – having fantasized about his friend for years, only to take him home for a one-night stand when he’s too fucking out of his mind drunk to even remember it.

Eliott stares at him, and Lucas – Lucas has no clue what to do, or say. He hopes against hope he didn’t blurt out a confession of love during their activities – he doesn’t dare to lift up his eyes to Eliott’s.

“What – what happened, exactly? What did we – do?”

Eliott’s voice dropped a few octaves.

“You only rocked my world, Lucas. You did that one thing with your tongue and I died and went to heaven. But I do still feel a bit bad I didn’t manage to make you come a fourth time, though…”

The blood is back in Lucas’ face – he must be as red as a firetruck now – and he slowly sinks to the floor, hugging himself.

“Please, no,” he mumbles, “God, just – this can’t be true…”

For a long beat, all Lucas hears are the sounds of the food in the pan hissing and the coffee dripping into the can and the insistent low drumming behind his eyelids, until Eliott speaks up, in his normal voice again.

“I’m messing with you. I brought you home and I was too lazy to go back out, so I slept on the couch.”

Lucas feels his lungs fill up again at Eliott’s words, and lets out a relieved “Oh, thank fuck!”. He looks up at Eliott – but Eliott is not laughing at having pranked Lucas. He is looking at Lucas with storm in his eyes, and when Lucas opens his mouth to speak, he makes an irreverent gesture and turns back to the stovetop.

“Breakfast is almost done,” he says, his voice clipped.

Lucas stares at Eliott’s back, his shoulders tense, his movements curt and chopped.

“Uh, okay?”, he replies, hesitantly, and it sounds more like a question. “Thanks for cooking. And for taking care of me yesterday…”

“Don’t worry about it. No good deed goes unpunished, right?”

Eliott laughs cynically, and it confuses Lucas.

“Huh? What?”

Eliott doesn’t react immediately, and then he turns off the heat and stands very still, his back still to Lucas.

“I didn’t realize you thought about me like that. Like it would have been such an enormous disaster to sleep with me.”

Lucas wants to say something, but he doesn’t know how to explain without confessing he has had the biggest crush on Eliott ever since high school, so he remains silent – and maybe that is the wrong reaction, because Eliott turns around to face Lucas, and his face contorts with heavy emotion. Lucas tries to decipher them – anger, pain – but his brain hasn’t not fully caught up yet, so he just stares at his friend with an open mouth, unsure about what is going on.

“I get the fact that you’re not into me, but you don’t have to act so fucking repulsed by the idea we might have had sex, Lucas.”

“But… You said we didn’t…”

Eliott’s voice raises.

“No, fuck, we didn’t, but it wouldn’t have been the end of the world if we did, like you are making it out to be! Fuck. I didn’t realize I disgusted you that much. It’s not like I would ask you to marry me just because we fucked!”

Eliott seems really upset, and Lucas’ head spins.

“That’s not it…”, he tries weakly, but Eliott apparently doesn’t want to listen, and he stalks out of the kitchen, into the living room where Lucas assumes he left his clothes. He tries to follow the thread of the conversation, but nothing seems to make any sense.

Eliott steps back through the door a few moments later, fully dressed, and with a grim line around his mouth.

“I’m off. That way you won’t have to torture yourself with thinking about us fucking, since it revolts you that much.”

And Lucas still isn’t thinking clearly, his head pounding, and he cannot stop the words tumbling from his lips.

“But I think about that all the time!”

Eliott, who had been trying to find his shoes, stops abruptly, and slowly faces Lucas, who is still seated on the kitchen floor, his back against the wall, his arms around himself, knees pulled up.

“What?”, Eliott asks flatly, without intonation.

Lucas takes a deep breath.

“I think about sleeping with you all the time. It – it doesn’t repulse me. Quite – well, quite the opposite, in fact,” he finishes lamely, stumbling across the words, staring at the dirty tiles in front of him. They really should mop this kitchen more often, he thinks, when suddenly Eliott crouches right in front of Lucas.

“Look at me,” he demands, but Lucas shakes his head – which is not the smartest move, because the throbbing behind his eyes explodes momentarily – and Eliott repeats, softly, “Please, look at me, Lucas.”

And Lucas is powerless against the gentleness in Eliott’s voice, and he looks up, staring at Eliott like a deer into headlights.

“Then why did you react like that? Like the world was gonna end, when you thought we did it? You sounded so fucking relieved when I said I was joking.”

Lucas knows better than to shake his head this time.

“Because I didn’t remember anything! If I get to have sex with you, I at least want to remember it! And because – because I was worried I had said or done things that would make things weird between us…”

Eliott doesn’t immediately react, and then he says, uncertainly, with a slight hiccup in his voice: “Like – like what?”

And Lucas wants to deny he ever said anything, wants to jab at Eliott as he would usually do, but maybe it’s his hangover, or maybe it’s the strange intimacy between them, on the floor in the kitchen a Sunday morning in April before Paris has woken up, or maybe it’s just time for honesty – but whatever the reason, he takes a deep breath and looks Eliott straight in the eyes.

“Like, maybe, that I would say yes if you asked me to marry you.”

For a long beat, nothing happens, but then, finally, Eliott’s sunny smile appears on his beautiful face.

“You would?”, he whispers, and Lucas nods.

Eliott’s eyes sparkle, and for one insane moment, Lucas truly believes the earth has stopped spinning. Then, Eliott leans in, grabs Lucas’ face between his large hands, and pulls him closer, until their lips are a hair’s breadth apart.

“Will you remember this?”, Eliott asks mischievously, and Lucas rolls his eyes, but hums softly. They are so close that Lucas feels rather than see Eliott’s responding smile, and then Eliott’s mouth is on his, and all other thoughts flee. He does no longer feel the headache, and the light-headed feeling he gets is so much better than any alcohol buzz he has ever experienced.

All too soon, Eliott pulls back and stands up, pulling Lucas along.

“Come on,” he exclaims giddily, moving towards Lucas’ bedroom.

“Wait, what? Where are we going? What are you doing?”

Eliott laughs, carefree and confident.

“Maybe I lied. Maybe I _will_ ask you to marry me after we fuck. So come on already…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love comments.
> 
> <3


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: “I’ve been in love with you for years.”
> 
> <3

“Here,” the florist says.

Lucas puts up his wallet after paying for his mom’s flowers, and looks up. The florist is holding a single sunflower in her outstretched hand.

“Uh, what –”

“Every time you come here, you stare at the sunflowers,” the florist says. Lucas immediately starts blushing. Was it that obvious? “But you never get any,” she continues. “So this one is on the house.”

She holds out the flower, and Lucas cannot refuse such a kind gesture. So he accepts, and manages to stammer a word of thanks, and leaves the shop with a beating heart and one tall sunflower.

And now what is he supposed to do with it? He could put it in a vase on his counter, he supposes. Or give it to Manon. But the reason he always stares at them, is because they remind him of Eliott. Eliott, who is so convinced he is darkness, is Lucas’ personal sun. His wide smile warms Lucas’ heart. His laughter breaks through Lucas’ walls of ice, and makes him feel so many things. The golden specks in his grey eyes shine like a thousand suns, and they chase away Lucas’ fears.

Well, almost all of Lucas’ fears, at least. There is one they cannot reach.

But the sunflower in his hand might be able to – and so Lucas walks up to Eliott’s flat, and leaves the flower on the doorknob.

He doesn’t have to wait long. The same evening, Eliott calls, all excitement and bouncy energy.

“Lucas! Somebody left a sunflower at my door! What do you think it means?”

Lucas smiles. Eliott had it rough recently, and just to hear him so happy makes everything worthwhile. His own personal sun is shining again, and Lucas doesn’t ask for anything more.

But a few days later, when they are having coffee together, Eliott starts speaking, and Lucas almost spits out his coffee.

“Idriss says the sunflower must be from a secret admirer.”

“Oh?”, Lucas manages to grit out, after swallowing nervously.

“Yeah. Will you help me figure out who it is?”

He is almost jumping up and down in excitement, and when he looks at Lucas like that, Lucas feels himself melting.

And so it starts. Lucas goes back to the flower shop, and buys a single sunflower, and leaves it on Eliott’s doorstep. And then again, and again, and again.

Eliott is already halfway in love with Mystery Girl, as he has dubbed his secret admirer. He calls Lucas at all hours of the day and night.

“Lucas! This one girl in my painting class did Van Gogh’s Sunflowers today! Do you think it could be her?”

“Lucas, it’s the new girl working at the bakery, I am sure of it. I talked to her today, and I mentioned flowers, and she blushed.”

“Lucas, I hope it’s the redhead from across the street. She smiled at me today and she was so pretty.”

And what started as something harmless to put a smile on his friend’s face, develops into something that hurts Lucas more than he thought was possible.

Every time Eliott talks about yet another girl, it breaks Lucas’ heart. But he cannot stop now, not when Eliott is so happy, and smiles all the time, and believes he is worthy of love again. And so he continues.

But after two months, when they are having their usual coffee, and Eliott looks at every random girl on the street to find a clue, Lucas finally suggests it might be a guy, too.

He is, however, not prepared for the change in Eliott at that idea. He frowns, and his eyes go stormy, and he presses his lips together in a thin straight line. And that breaks Lucas’ heart even more. Apparently, Eliott is no longer into guys.

And Lucas skips the next delivery, and Eliott calls, sad and subdued.

“Do you think she is upset because I haven’t figured it out yet? Do you think she has moved on? What should I do, Lucas?”

And Lucas rushes out, to the flower shop. The florist smiles, and Lucas tries to smile back, but he is sure it looks more like a grimace.

But it is good practice, to smile at Eliott when the latter is back on the search that same evening.

It is bound to go wrong at some point though.

One Thursday morning, when Eliott is supposed to be in class, Lucas is just about to climb the stairs, sunflower in hand, when Eliott comes storming down. He takes one look at Lucas, who is too shocked to say or do anything, and his whole body seems to crumble. He looks at Lucas with such devastation that Lucas wants the earth to open up and swallow him.

“It’s you? It has been you all this time?”

He sounds miserable, and Lucas only nods. He sees tears in Eliott’s eyes, and the tiny bit of his heart that was still intact, shatters into a million pieces.

“Why?”

It is no more than a whisper, but in the empty hall, it sounds like a gunshot to Lucas, an accusation.

“I didn’t mean for it to go this far…”

They both stand motionless, less than a meter apart, but with a gaping schism between them.

“I’m sorry, Eliott…”

A sob escapes his lips. He stares at the flower in his hand, doesn’t know what to do with it. He wants to give it to Eliott, it is for Eliott after all, but Eliott does no longer want it, not when it’s from Lucas.

“I thought you were my friend, Lucas!”

Eliott sounds furious, and Lucas knows he has crossed the line. It was never okay for him to want more from Eliott. It was not okay to dream about more, hope for more. He should have told Eliott about his feelings years ago, instead of pretending. He is the worst friend ever.

“You knew all along, and you still went along with it. You knew how happy I was. I thought somebody loved me. I thought – I hoped that I could be loved… I didn’t think you would be so cruel, Lucas…”

And Lucas knows he must be honest now. Even though Eliott doesn’t want this love, doesn’t want love if it comes from Lucas.

“You _are_ loved… I know it’s not what you wanted, but I love you so much. I have been in love with you for years… I’m so sorry…”

Silence falls between them, and Lucas has nothing to hide behind anymore. It is all out in the open, naked honesty. The flower falls out of his trembling hand. It lies there, on the dirty tiles in between them, and they both look at it, and everything it means.

“You love me?”

Another whispered gunshot. Another nod. And then, because he has nothing left to lose, Lucas speaks.

“I know you didn’t want it to be a guy, and I know you don’t feel the same. I should have told you a long time ago, but I was afraid… afraid you wouldn’t be able to overlook it and wouldn’t want to be my friend anymore.”

Eliott doesn’t react at first. Then he bends down, picks up the flower, twirls it between his big fingers.

“You are right… I wouldn’t have wanted to be your friend anymore.”

God. Lucas feels the gaping wound in his chest bleed. But at least now he knows.

“I’ll… I’ll just go, then. Sorry again…”

He turns, unsure if the words came out right, if Eliott even could understand them. His legs don’t seem to work any longer, he can’t breathe, his lungs are filled with blood and –

“Lucas.”

Eliott’s voice. A whisper, once more, but this time, it doesn’t sound like a gunshot. It is – a caress?

“Lucas.” Again, more urgent.

Lucas turns around. He has a heart left, after all, because it hammers against his ribs, in his throat.

“I never said I didn’t want it to be a guy. When you suggested it, it – it wasn’t that I didn’t want it to be a guy.”

“But you seemed so upset about the idea. And you never considered any boys, only girls.”

“I know. It’s because… if it could be a boy, I would be forced to admit I wanted it to be only one person. Somebody I have been in love with for years.”

The tiny glimmer of hope that flickered inside Lucas’ hollow chest dances wildly. He doesn’t know what Eliott is trying to say.

Eliott takes a tentative step towards Lucas.

Then, with a decisive move of his arm, he reaches out his hand, holding the sunflower out to Lucas.

“Here.”

Lucas doesn’t know what is going on, but he automatically takes the tall stem in his hand, caressing the yellow petals.

“Why – why are you giving me this?”, he finally asks, his voice small.

“From your secret admirer,” Eliott answers.

He smiles at Lucas, a bit hesitant at first, but then, when Lucas gasps, and brings the flower close to his chest, where miraculously, his heart is glued back together, Eliott’s face brightens, and the sun breaks through the clouds. Lucas lifts his face, and he swears the flower turns towards Eliott, too – but then it doesn’t matter anymore, because their lips touch, and the spark between them puts any sun to shame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About that comment box... ^^
> 
> <3


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: "You caught me doing something dangerous and flipped out"
> 
> <3

“Hey! That’s illegal!”

Lucas hears the voice from down below, but he ignores it. He loves climbing things – trees, scaffolds, walls, he doesn’t care. And he’s good at it, too.

He has no clue whether it is, in fact, illegal to climb a street lamp post. It probably is, but unless the guy below is a cop, Lucas hasn’t really got anything to worry about, has he?

He chances a peek. No uniform in sight. No problem, then. Lucas moves a bit, sitting a bit more comfortably at the top of the post. He hates all the high buildings in Paris. He could have such a great view if it wasn’t for all the flats.

“Lucas! You have to come down!”

Huh? He looks down again, and the guy is staring up, his head in his neck.

And even from here, Lucas recognizes that face.

It’s the new guy in school. The one he asked Alex about. The one with the face of a model and the body of a renaissance statue.

Eliott.

How does Eliott know his name? Why does he even know who Lucas is?

If Lucas is honest, he has to confess that he has been dreaming about Eliott these past few weeks, both at night and during the day. He has been caught between the desire to walk up to him in the hallway to start a conversation and the fear that somebody like Eliott wouldn’t be interested in Lucas. He looks down again, where Eliott is still looking up at him.

“Shit, Lucas, please! It’s too dangerous!”

It really isn’t. It’s only a couple of meters. Lucas wraps his legs a bit tighter around the pole, and lets go of the top of the lamp. He waves at Eliott.

“Fuck! Hold on to that thing! You could fall!”

Lucas won’t fall. He’s done this kind of thing millions of times. Whenever he feels lost, he climbs as high as he can. It calms him to feel the breeze in his hair, to look down upon the world at his feet, to see how small everything is from up above. It gives him a new perspective, literally. It brings hope.

He grins, throwing his head back. He wants to laugh out loud. Nothing can touch him, up here. His mom being in the hospital, his dad not replying, the late rent due to Mika, the failed French Lit test, the fact he is using Chloé as a fake girlfriend because he is afraid of coming out to his friends, his crazy crush on the boy standing right below – it all becomes insignificant. He knows he will have to face it all again when he reaches street level again, but for now, it cannot get him. Nothing will drag him under as long as he is high enough, out of reach.

“Please, just come down, okay?”

Eliott sounds almost pleading.

“Why?”, he calls back, challenging. What is it to Eliott, anyway?

“What if you fall? You could break something. You could break your neck. Hell, Lucas, I don’t want to stand here and watch you plunge to your death, dammit!”

Lucas’ laugh dies on his lips. Eliott sounds… upset. Anxious. Worry tinges his words.

“Just, please, please, please, come down okay?”

He is almost begging Lucas now.

And Lucas doesn’t really know what is happening. He doesn’t know how Eliott knows his name, he doesn’t know how he spotted Lucas up here, he doesn’t know why he is so adamant for Lucas to come down, but a reckless feeling takes hold of him.

Eliott knows who he is. Eliott seems to care about his well-being. Eliott is actually talking to Lucas – okay, fine, yelling, but who cares about the details –, and Lucas doesn’t want that to end.

In a split second, he decides to slide down the pole full speed, no hands.

He hears Eliott shriek, but he just smiles. About fifty centimeters from the ground, he clamps his legs tight, tight enough to come to a stop, hovering right above the cobblestones.

Eliott has covered both his eyes with his hands, whimpering, but when no crash of a Lucas-size object occurs, he peeks gingerly through his fingers.

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! You almost gave me a heart attack! I thought you fell, I thought you’d fucking die right in front of me! Fuck, I almost lost it!”

“Nothing happened,” Lucas smirks. “I am still in one piece, as you see.”

He sets his hands down, and steps of the lamp post. He straightens himself, shakes his muscles loose a bit, beats the dust off his jeans. Eliott is standing right there, less than a meter away, following Lucas’ movements, as if to check there is indeed no broken bones, no blood.

And Lucas decides to go all in.

“Why were you so worried anyway?”

Eliott suddenly flushes. Lucas watches, intrigued by the faint pink that appears on the apples of Eliott’s cheeks. Adorable, Lucas thinks. He has never thought of Eliott as cute before – he’s used words like impeccable, gorgeous, flawless, breathtaking and scorching hot – but right now, he wants to gobble the older boy up.

“Why did you flip out when you saw me do something dangerous?”

Lucas is genuinely curious, but something takes root inside his heart as he speaks. Something he hardly can describe, something wild and exciting, something that has his breath speed up and his cheeks burn and that makes millions of butterflies erupt in his stomach.

Eliott blushes more fervently now, and his eyes rove over Lucas’ face – his eyes, his nose, his jaw, his mouth. They stay there for a long second. When he looks up again, Lucas gasps. Eliott’s eyes are dark, and something almost dangerous has appeared in them. But Lucas is not afraid.

Neither of them smiles anymore.

And then, in an almost feral move, they both lean in, grasping each other’s face, and kissing like there is no tomorrow.

Above them, the street lamp slowly blinks on as the twilight sets in, but neither of them notices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are a writer's best friend!
> 
> <3


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: "Your shirt/jumper was in the laundry pile and I couldn’t help but steal it"
> 
> <3

Doing laundry sucks. Doing laundry on a sunny day sucks even more. And doing laundry on a sunny day because you have nothing clean after moping in your bed for weeks after breaking up with your girlfriend sucks the absolute most.

The only thing that could make this even worse is somebody leaving their laundry in the dryer Eliott needs to use.

Eliott curses as he sees the enormous pile of dry clothes when he opens the machine. There is nobody else in the laundromat – because nobody in their right mind does laundry on a sunny day, as established. There is also not a bag or basket in sight to dump the clothes into.

Eliott stands there, his wet laundry in his basket, unsure what to do. He doesn’t have the patience to wait until whoever left his clothes here gets back. He wants to get this over with, so he can go out like the rest of Paris.

Oh, fuck it. His annoyance finally catches up with him, and he just swipes at the clothes in the dryer, dropping them all on the floor. Their owner will have to launder them all over again, probably, but Eliott doesn’t care.

He stuffs his own wet pile in the machine and throws in his quarters, wishing the machine to hurry up while he plays some stupid game on his phone.

It’s not until he loads the dry clothes back into his basket that he notices the grey hoodie that doesn’t look familiar. It has big white letters on the front. Eliott shakes it open and reads “ROMANCE”. Definitely not one of his sweaters. It belongs probably to the dryer hogger, and Eliott left it inside the machine when he dropped the rest on the floor.

Pretty ironic, too, the message on the hoodie, considering he has just broken up with Lucille. On a whim, he throws it on top of his basket. Serves the weirdo who left his clothes unattended right to get his sweater stolen.

***

Eliott has been wearing the romance hoodie all week. It doesn’t really fit, it’s a bit short and tight, but it’s surprisingly soft and warm. And, well, it feels like it was a message from the universe. Just because he quit Lucille – years too late – doesn’t mean he’ll never find anybody else.

He has almost forgotten it’s not actually his, as he walks from his campus to a coffee shop popular with all students.

So when a boy with dark hair and eyes that could kill suddenly stands in front of him and shrieks, “That’s mine, you thief!”, he is doesn’t realize what the guy is talking about, at first.

“Do you think you can just steal people’s clothes? Give it back, you weirdo!”

And Eliott had never really thought about the chance of running into the owner of the hoodie, but well, it seems like they really run in small circles. But he doesn’t feel like giving it back. It’s his memo to keep believing in love.

“Do you think you can just keep them sitting in the dryer that other people need to use? You’re lucky I didn’t steal them all,” he retorts, a challenge in his voice.

The guy glares unimpressed back.

“Yeah, well. My girlfriend’s water broke and I had to take her to the hospital. No time to get out my laundry, sorry. But my newborn son is fine, thanks.”

What? Shit. Eliott feels like a total dick now. He never even thought that the clothes might have gotten left behind in an emergency.

“Oh, fuck! I’m sorry. I had no idea… Sorry I dumped them on the floor, there was nothing to put them in… God, I feel like a heel. Oh, and congratulations, I mean, uh, with your –”

The boy shrugs and stretches out his arm, interrupting Eliott’s babbling.

“So, my hoodie?”

Ah, yes. Eliott feels rather reluctant about giving it back, but he supposes he has no choice.

“Come on, man,” the boy says impatiently. “It doesn’t even fit you.”

Eliott stares at him. He has big blue eyes. Eliott tries to define their shade, but the light plays tricks on him, it shifts from indigo to azure and back.

“Uh, I – I –”

“What is it?”, the boy snarls. “How hard is it to take a hoodie off? Or do you want me to take it off you myself?”

Ah. Suddenly, Eliott wants that, yes. Not here, though. He sees himself in his bedroom, the boy taking off the hoodie with nimble fingers and a hooded look in those huge eyes.

He shakes his head to lose these thoughts. They make no sense, anyway. This guy has a girlfriend and a son.

“Uh, I – Could I keep it? I can pay you for it.”

The boy raises his eyebrow.

“You want to pay a stranger for an old hoodie that doesn’t even fit you? What the fuck? Did you get your first blowjob while wearing it or something? Met your soulmate thanks to it?”

And again, Eliott gets this weird feeling, that yes, maybe he did. He met the boy in front of him, didn’t he?

He knows he is staring, but he can’t help it.

The boy has symmetric features, a strong nose, jawlines that could kill. Eliott’s gaze wanders over plump red lips, down to the moles dotting the guy’s skin where it peeks out of his shirt.

His eyes go lower yet, down to a hint of abs, tight jeans – Fuck. He whips his eyes up again, certain he is blushing. The guy is smirking.

Fuck. Eliott should just take off the damn hoodie and walk away with whatever is left of his dignity. Maybe the letters on it were not a message from fate at all. Maybe it was trying to tell him he should have stuck with Lucille.

Just as he is about to crawl back into his hole, a bunch of boys comes running towards them.

“Lu! What the hell! We’re all waiting for you, man!”

The boy turns his head, and accepts a hug from a dark-skinned tall guy, who then looks at Eliott peculiarly.

“But I see what’s going on,” he grins, a teasing lilt in his words. “Our Lu was too busy flirting to remember his brothers, guys.”

Huh, what? The boy looks stoically ahead.

“Flirting?”

He sounds like a complete idiot. Like he doesn’t even know the meaning of the word.

A blonde with glasses smiles at him.

“You’re just his type, man.”

“But – but –”, Eliott stammers. “What about his girlfriend then?”

Three faces look at him in astonishment, and then laughter erupts.

“Girlfriend? This one? His last girlfriend was years ago, and it was a beard at that!”

“What have you been telling this poor guy, Lucas?”

The boy – Lucas – intervenes, while Eliott feels completely thrown off balance. Does Lucas have a girlfriend – and a son – or is he into guys?

“Okay, guys, off with you, okay? Go ahead. I’ll catch up in a few minutes.”

The others throw them pointed looks, but leave without much commenting.

“So, yeah, sorry. I don’t have a girlfriend, and the chances of me getting a girl pregnant are very slim, to put it mildly.”

“You dick. I felt fucking guilty! You made me think you had an emergency when you were in fact just an inconsiderate ass!”

“Hey! Just because there was no pregnancy doesn’t mean there wasn’t an emergency! I got a call from the hospital where my mom – Anyway,” Lucas catches himself, and continues in a calmer voice, “there was a crisis that needed attention. I’m sorry I left my clothes there, I really am, and that I lied to you, but I want my hoodie back, okay?”

Eliott traces the letters on his chest with his finger. Romance. A message to him. Meeting his soulmate. And a hot boy in front of him.

It’s a sign.

“I’ll give it back to you after our first date, how’s that?”

Lucas seems taken aback for a second, but then a wide grin appears on his face.

“If you wait until after the third, I’ll take it off you as I promised.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I survive on comments.
> 
> <3


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: "Wrapping arms around them when they make breakfast"
> 
> <3

Lucas wakes up to an empty bed and humming from the kitchen. He stretches contently, feeling slightly sore after last night. He had made the right choice yesterday night, when he decided to bring home – Frédéric? Firmin? – either way, when he decided to bring home the guy he’d been grinding to on the dancefloor. He’d had some long overdue sex, and it sounds like – Florent? François? – either way, is cooking breakfast. Sunday mornings can’t start in a better way.

Lucas quickly pulls on his boxers, and tiptoes to the kitchen, where he is greeted by the sight of a naked back, bare feet and a delectable ass in a pair of jeans.

He sneaks closer, and with a hum wraps his arms around the slender waist in front of him, resting his cheek against warm skin.

“Morning, tiger,” he purrs. They can eat something, he figures, and then maybe go back to bed for a final farewell fuck.

Then – Fabrice? Fabien? – turns around, and – fuck.

Lucas lets go as if burned.

“You’re – you’re not – Fernand? Félicien? Franck? Oh, fuck,” he stammers.

The boy in front of him laughs.

“I’m not,” he confirms matter-of-factly. “I’m not one of your one-night-stands. But I’m impressed, though. Three at once? Wow.”

He raises a perfectly curved eyebrow, and Lucas’ cheeks burn a fiery red.

“Oh, fuck off,” he mumbles lamely. “Who are you? And where is… fuck.”

The guy laughs again.

“I woke up about thirty minutes ago and I ran into a guy in the hallway on my way to the bathroom. I didn’t ask for his name, but it could very well have been – what did you say it was again?”

Lucas glares.

“Seems like your tiger had other places to be.”

The mirth in the other’s voice gets Lucas’ hackles up. There’s really no shame in bringing a guy home and he is definitely not the first not to remember the name of his hook up in the morning.

“And the answer to my first question?”, he says, as coolly as he can muster.

“Eliott. I’m a friend of Idriss. He said I could crash here.”

Ah, yes. Lucas vaguely remembers his flatmate saying something about this before he left to spend the weekend with his family.

“And I guess you are Lucas,” Eliott continues.

Lucas nods. He doesn’t even want to know what Idriss told his friend about Lucas. He doubts Idriss has warned Eliott about one-night stands doing the walk of shame at seven in the morning – mostly because Lucas especially waited for Idriss to be out to bring somebody home. Being okay with a gay flatmate is fine in theory, but Lucas wasn’t about to test Idriss’ limits only six weeks after moving in. He was lucky enough that Imane suggested her brother’s place, after Mika had decided to go live with his boyfriend.

“Okay, so that’s all clear then. Want some breakfast, Lucas? You look like you need to replenish your strength,” Eliott says, and has the audacity to add a wink.

“Oh, fuck off,” Lucas retorts. Not his best come-back ever, he admits silently.

“What?”, Eliott inquires innocently. “You had a tiger in your bed all night, it’s only logical.”

An impervious glare goes his direction, but Eliott only chuckles as he stirs in the pan.

Lucas can’t help but let his eyes wander freely. He already knows the sexy skin presented to him is warm and smooth. Eliott is tall, but he keeps his shoulders hunched a bit, and Lucas wants to let his hand glide over them, scaling Eliott’s spine until his fingers reach the waistband of his jeans. Okay, fine – he doesn’t want to stop there, but he forces himself to stop drooling over Eliott’s ass.

“That’s twice you’ve brought that up now,” Lucas blurts out, annoyed by the whole situation – Félix? Filibert? – sneaking out, this fucking hunk teasing him about it. “Do you have a problem with that, or what?”

Slowly, Eliott turns off the gas, and faces Lucas.

“I might,” he says, crossing his arms over his naked chest, staring Lucas down.

The hairs on the back of Lucas’ neck rise.

“Ah, you’re one of those guys,” he challenges. “Afraid of gays, are you? Think we will rape your ass first chance we get, do you? Well, newsflash, you can fuck straight off then. You may be Idriss’ friend, but he’s not here, and I don’t need homophobes in my kitchen.”

Eliott doesn’t move, and Lucas bristles.

“Well? What are you standing around for?”

“I’m debating what I should say. I mean, should I just say I’m hardly afraid of gays? In fact, I have slept with two or three before. I do think I can remember their names, though.”

Lucas’ mouth falls open.

“Or should I say you’re welcome to my ass any time you’d like? I’m afraid it would be a bit too forward, but maybe it’d make things clear from the start. What do you think, Lucas?”

Lucas is unsure his brain is capable of thought. He splutters something incoherent. The grey eyes across from him seem to burn.

“Or should I say your fuck buddy is obviously either blind or criminally stupid to leave your bed?”

Eliott’s gaze slowly moves down over Lucas’ body, and he shivers under its intensity. When Eliott looks up again, Lucas’ cheeks burn and he feels feverish.

“Or should I just do what I want to do?”

A silence falls, and Lucas’ fried brain cannot keep up. Finally, he manages to get enough synapses firing to get his mouth moving.

“What is that?”

Eliott takes a step closer, but doesn’t answer, and Lucas, who has caught up enough to realize Eliott might be interested in him, does the same. One by one, they take a step, not breaking eye contact, until their toes almost touch. In the same split second, they drop their eyes to the other’s lips.

“What do you want to do, Eliott?”, Lucas mumbles. He is unsure Eliott can hear him, or if he lipreads the words, but he growls in response.

“Show you a fucking tiger. Right here.”

Lucas nods, as if his entire skeleton system has not just dissolved into a puddle of jelly, as if his lungs aren’t burning with fire, as if his dick has not just tightened painfully.

As if he can handle any of these things.

“Should I, Lucas?”, Eliott whispers, and his voice is molten lava, sultry and seductive, and it takes all of Lucas’ brainpower to nod.

Eliott’s lips come crashing down, and their kiss is electrifying, and soul-mending, and earth-shattering, and life-changing.

And then Eliott’s hands are all over Lucas, and Lucas cannot help the moan that escapes him, and Eliott laughs as he presses his lips on Lucas’ jaws, his nose, his chin, his eyelids.

Lucas will definitely not forget Eliott’s name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five more to go! I could do with some comments, though... ;)
> 
> <3


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: "We dated in high school but then you moved away but now you’re back in town"
> 
> CW - Talk about mental illness, suicide (but no actual attempts)
> 
> <3

“Have you guys heard?”

Basile came running towards them, ten minutes late for the gang’s weekly pizza night. As soon as he was near enough, he came to a skidding halt, bent double, his hands on his knees, his face red and ruddy, taking in gulps of oxygen while he tried to tell them his big news.

“Daphné told me, she heard from Imane, who had it from Sofiane, so that must mean it’s true, because obviously Sofiane would not just make something like that up, would he? Anyway, so Daphné heard it this morning when the girls went all shopping together, and she came over to my place to tell me just as I was about to leave, so that’s why I’m late, sorry about that, guys, have you ordered yet? You remembered to leave off the mushrooms on mine, right? Anyway, so what do you think about it, huh?”

He looked around expectantly.

“Baz, my man,” Arthur said, shaking his head fondly but exasperatedly, “why don’t you sit down first, and then tell us this piece of bombshell gossip Daphné thought was more important than pizza with your friends.”

Basile did as suggested, and then looked around again with aplomb, eager to share his news.

“Eliott is back in town!”

Silence fell, as Yann and Arthur glanced over at Lucas.

“Eliott Demaury?”, Yann asked after a long beat.

“Of course, Eliott Demaury, do we know any other Eliotts?”

Basile was so extraordinarily proud of surprising his friends with his announcement that he completely missed how Lucas suddenly had gone pale.

“We should text him, ask him if he wants to hang out again, like before!”

Lucas noticed how Yann elbowed Basile in the arm while Arthur frantically shook his head, and it made him feel bad. If the boys wanted to hang out with Eliott again, they should be able to do so. But Yann knew, and Arthur could probably guess, that Lucas would very much prefer not to. But whether Basile tried to set something up or not, chances were Lucas would run into Eliott at some point anyway.

“Yeah, sure,” he therefore said. Better to meet him with Yann there for emotional support, than running into him alone and when he was least expecting it. This way, he could prepare.

But not enough, it turned out, when Basile immediately took out his phone, and before anyone realized what was going on, announced gleefully, “That’s arranged! He’s coming over.”

Lucas choked on his own saliva, and a worried look appeared in Yann’s eyes, but the damage was done, and when a familiar figure walked up a few minutes later, Lucas took a big gulp of air and hoped for the best.

“Hi,” a hesitant voice came, and Lucas had to close his eyes against the memories crashing over him.

_Eliott calling him late at night, his voice warm with sleep._

_Eliott whispering nonsensical words in Lucas’ hair, against Lucas’ skin._

_Eliott breathing out Lucas’ name into Lucas’ mouth, his lips taking on the shapes with Eliott’s._

“Hey,” he crooked, willing himself to act normally, to just greet him like an old friend he hadn’t seen in a while.

And why wouldn’t he? Of course, he had had the biggest crush on Eliott for most of the time they’d known each other, and Eliott had definitely given him the impression it had been reciprocated, until he had just disappeared – but nobody needed to know that.

Only Yann knew the full story – he had confronted Lucas one night, a few weeks after Eliott had left. Lucas had barely left his room for days, not speaking, eating only because Manon forced him. When he finally came back to school, he had been silent, withdrawn, and pale, and he snapped at the boys a couple of times for no reason. And then Yann had shown up, demanding answers, and Lucas had broken down and cried his heart out, telling his best friend about his whirlwind romance with Eliott, and the bitter taste it had left when Eliott had just packed up and left, not answering any of Lucas’ attempts at communication.

He would have sworn, only this morning, that he was definitely over Eliott Demaury, after three years – although maybe his glaring lack of any boyfriends in that time might suggest otherwise. Oh, sure, he’d kissed the occasional guy here and there, but nothing serious. And now, seeing Eliott, watching his grey eyes shine and his hands gesture wildly, he was forced to admit that the reason nothing ever went further was that he was the farthest thing away from being over him.

Basile was already jumping around Eliott like a young puppy, bouncing up and down, asking him how he was, what was going on, whether he was back for good, where he had been, why he had moved without notifying any of them – all in rapid-fire, without giving the older boy a chance to reply.

Finally, Eliott spoke up.

“It’s not the happiest story, but if you guys are up for it, I would like to tell you all.”

He stared straight at Lucas, and Lucas needed to turn his head, afraid of falling for Eliott all over at the slightest opportunity. He steeled himself not to believe any of his beautiful words this time, not to walk into his trap again.

But Yann nodded solemnly, and Eliott gangly sat down, folding his long limbs and hunching his shoulders.

“So, uh, I am bipolar. I don’t know if you guys know, but it’s a mental disorder…”

A silence fell. They all knew what that meant. Lucas had finally told the gang about his mom’s admission into the mental ward in their last year in high school, and Basile had told them about his mom’s mental illness.

“We know,” Arthur said. “That sucks.”

“Uh, okay, yeah, it does. So we didn’t know at the time, but a lot of the stuff I did at my old school was due to episodes. It’s also why I failed my bac and got expelled from my other school and came to yours. But like I said, nobody knew at the time and so, one day, I went into a manic stage and I tried to jump off a rooftop because I thought I could fly. A police agent managed to talk into me enough to get me down safely, and I got brought into the station. The cops called my parents, and they thought I had tried to commit suicide – which wasn’t true. I had everything to live for, and I wouldn’t want to give up –”

He looked at Lucas again. So did Yann. Both sets of eyes were trying to gauge what Lucas was thinking, feeling, but Lucas was numb.

“Anyway. They had me admitted into a psych ward near Le Havre, where they had moved to a few months earlier, that same night. I couldn’t keep my phone or anything, I couldn’t contact anybody, I –”

Again, his eyes found Lucas, pleading.

“I wanted to call you so badly, I swear, but they wouldn’t let me, and then when they finally gave me my phone back, it was weeks later, after they had diagnosed me, and I just – I thought you would be better off without me. Or that you would have forgotten me, or had moved on, and so I just… didn’t.”

Lucas saw Eliott’s eyes shine with something different now, as if he was blinking back tears. He wasn’t sure his own eyes looked any better.

It remained quiet for a while. The boys looked from one to the other, unsure what was going on.

“So why are you back now, then?”, Yann asked, when nobody else made a move.

“The simple answer is that I finally got accepted into the Arts program at the University of Paris,” Eliott answered, but his eyes still never left Lucas.

Yann nudged him with his elbow, willing him to ask for the other reason Eliott hinted so obviously at, but Lucas was still too much in shock to do so.

In the end, it was Arthur who finally broke the heavy tension.

“And the complicated answer?”

Eliott took a deep breath.

“I had to leave something behind I never wanted to leave. Or someone, rather. Someone who I hadn’t even known all that long, but who meant everything to me. Someone who I missed every goddamn day I was out there. Who I have written thousands of texts to, and deleted them all, who I wanted to call millions of times, but never did. Someone I made so many drawings for over the years I could barely get them all to Paris with me – I just hope he gives me a chance to show them to him one day.”

“Sound like someone pretty important,” Yann said, when Eliott’s voice broke.

“The most important person I ever met,” Eliott agreed. “I loved him, and I hate the fact that I never got to tell him, so I just hope I get to tell him now.”

“Do you – still?”, Lucas whispered. “Love him?”

Eliott nodded. “I never stopped. Please, Lucas,” he said, suddenly giving up all the pretense, beseeching him, “I swear I never meant to hurt you, it all happened so fast, and I know I am years too late, and you probably have somebody else by now, I just – I need you to believe me. I fell in love with you the first day I saw you walking the hallway at school, and I never stopped.”

Basile gasped.

“You are in love with _Lucas_? _Our_ Lucas?”

“Oh, come on, Baz,” Arthur said as he stood up. “Let’s go get pizza. You coming, Yann?”

And as Basile still protested indignantly – “But I didn’t know! Lucas never said anything!” – Arthur and Yann dragged him along, the latter winking over his shoulder at Lucas.

As Basile’s voice finally died down, Lucas lifted his eyes to Eliott’s, and then dropped them to his mouth almost immediately.

“Lucas?”, Eliott said tentatively, gingerly reaching out a hand to Lucas’ shoulder.

“You drew for me?”

He didn’t know why he came up with that, after everything Eliott had said, but he was rewarded when Eliott smiled.

“Hundreds of times. Hundreds of happy hedgehogs and raccoons.”

Lucas smiled.

“Do you… I mean, maybe… If you wanted… You could come with me and I could show them to you?”

Eliott’s tone was hopeful, but cautious, and suddenly Lucas didn’t want to waste another minute. He’d pined over Eliott for years, and here he was. Nobody could predict the future, but tonight, he wasn’t going to let Eliott slip away.

“Only if I can stay the night,” he said, softly, and he laughed as Eliott’s eyes went wide and his breath hitched.

“I can’t wait until we get there to kiss you,” Eliott replied just as softly, when he was sufficiently recovered.

“Please don’t.”

And when their lips found each other again after all those years, they both knew it was going to take a while to get to the drawings – but neither of them overly minded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!
> 
> <3


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: "Blurting out a confession of love"
> 
> <3

Lucas blames himself, of course. He had left his phone in his locker when he came to search for some obscure textbook he foolishly wanted to quote in his paper for international law.

But he blames the other guy even more.

The other guy who had come into the dimly-lit, cold, remote back room at the far end of the library corridor, for whatever reason Lucas failed to grasp, and who had _closed the fucking door_.

Lucas had been too engrossed in his book, trying to find the quote he was reasonably sure should be somewhere in it, to notice it before it was too late.

Because the door has been broken for as long as Lucas remembers. On his first day on campus, the older students had told tales of students getting trapped in there, and even though Lucas was sure they were gross exaggerations, he had made sure to adhere to the rule – never, ever, ever close the door of the archive room down the hall.

And it seems like the stories might have been true. Because Lucas is pretty certain more than an hour has passed since he came over here, and that had been twenty minutes before closing time. So it looks like the staff doesn’t bother checking out if anybody got locked into the back room before leaving for the night.

And to add insult to injury, not only did the other guy close the fucking door, but his phone battery is apparently dead, too.

Oh, of course, they tried yelling. They tried banging on the door. But nobody came running to their rescue, so now Lucas sits on the floor, back against the wall, hugging himself for warmth, refusing to look over at the other guy.

Because – and this is just the cherry on Lucas’ cake today – the other boy is absolutely gorgeous.

“I’m really, really sorr-”, the guy tries, for the thousandth time, but Lucas has just about had enough.

“Yeah, so you’ve said,” he interrupts curtly. He realizes he is being rude, but he needs all his strength to stave off a panic attack. His mind is going in a million directions at once – how long can a human body survive without water? How much air is in this room, and how long before they use it all up? He wishes he had paid more attention to Imane’s explanations when they were studying together. All he can think about is how he will die in this dusty library room.

“I know I did, but –”, a hesitant voice comes again from his left side.

“Listen, man,” Lucas sighs, “I forgive you, okay? It’s probably best not to die with a grudge, anyway.”

“We are not gonna die. We have a long, cold, hungry and probably sleepless night ahead, but in less than twelve hours somebody will come and open up and we will be free.”

Twelve hours. Twelve goddamn hours, and they don’t even have a way to track how many of them have passed. And what if nobody needs this room in the morning? Or all day? Or even all week? It’s not like they keep the most recent and most used volumes here.

Lucas feels his heart rate speed up, and he struggles to breathe. See, there it is, they have already used up most of the air, and –

“I can’t breathe,” he manages to stutter. “There’s no air… we’re going to die…”

In an instant, the boy is crouched in front of him, both hands on his face.

“Hey… Hey, look at me. We are not gonna die – or at least not now, not here.”

The guy chuckles a bit, but Lucas feels like he is drowning.

“We will… There is no air, we’ve used it all up, I can’t breathe!”

“Calm down, please… There is enough air in this room, believe me. And even if there wasn’t, the door isn’t airtight, fresh air comes in through the gap underneath. There is air enough for us to sit here for days, don’t worry, just breathe.”

“Days? You said twelve hours!”

“Yeah, I did. We’ll be out tomorrow, and there’s enough air for at least three days, so you can just breathe. In, and out. Just follow my example, in and out… Like that…”

Lucas tries to focus on the guy breathing slowly, his hands still cradling Lucas’ face. Slowly, he feels his heart getting back to a more normal rhythm.

“What if nobody comes here tomorrow, though? This is not exactly the most visited part of the library. We could be stuck here for days…”

The guy’s optimism seems to falter a bit, and he lowers his hands. Lucas feels the loss stir something deep inside him.

“Somebody will notice us missing, surely…”

“And the first place they’ll think to come look is the library?”, Lucas snorts.

“Well, okay, maybe not the first, but after a while, somebody must figure it out, right? Like, didn’t you tell anybody you were coming to do some research?”

Lucas tries to think. Did he?

“I can’t remember,” he truthfully answers after a moment, but at least the thinking has made him calm down. “What about you? Do your friends know you’re here? Or your girlfriend?”

“No girlfriend,” the boy answers with a slight smile. For some reason, Lucas feels a bit easier at that – though shouldn’t he hope for more people who might miss them?

“And no, sorry, I didn’t really tell anybody I was coming here.”

“What were you doing here, actually? You’re not a law student, are you?”

Another chuckle. Lucas kinda likes the sound of it.

“Ah, no. No, uhm, I’m in arts. My name is Eliott, by the way.”

“Arts? Then what are you even doing here?”

“I, uh, guess I took a wrong turn?” Eliott sounds a bit strange, but before Lucas can get into it, he quickly tacks on, “What’s your name, then?”

“Oh, I’m Lucas. I would say it’s nice to meet you, but, yeah.”

Eliott sits down cross-legged.

“It’s not that bad, is it? We have time to get to know each other, at least.”

Lucas glares at him.

“Yeah, sure. I suppose we do. At least then we can be friends when we come back to haunt this place after we die, right?”

“Oh, shut up,” Eliott laughs. “We’re not gonna die, I’ve told you that already.”

“I just fucking hope not,” Lucas mutters gloomily. “I don’t wanna die a virgin.”

As Eliott’s eyes open wide, Lucas realizes he said the words out loud.

“Fuck,” he mumbles. “Forget I said anything…”

Eliott’s eyes seem to glimmer weirdly.

“So, uh, no girlfriend either, then?”, he asks. It comes out a bit stilted.

“Wouldn’t want any,” Lucas replies. “But no boyfriend, no. Unfortunately.”

“Ah.”

Lucas doesn’t know how to take that answer. It doesn’t sound appalled at all, rather – relieved? But then Eliott doesn’t say anything after that, so maybe he doesn’t want to be locked in with a gay guy.

“Is that a problem?”, Lucas finally asks, pointedly, after a few minutes of silence.

“What? No!”, Eliott replies hastily. “I was just wondering how badly you don’t want to die a virgin.”

Huh? Lucas stares, and he opens his mouth, but he closes it again without answering, not grasping what Eliott is trying to infer.

“Because, well, I’m here.”

What?

He must have voiced his confusion, because Eliott takes a deep breath, and then the words tumble out of his mouth rapidly.

“I’m sorry, that was just… presumptuous and stupid. Just – forgot about that. It’s only that… I guess… well, I suppose I should confess. I didn’t stumble in here by accident, I – I followed you, I – I just… I mean, I saw you a while ago, you were walking through the hallway with your friends, I assume, but – I just couldn’t keep my eyes of you, actually. And – god, this is gonna sound creepy, but – nothing else has really mattered since. So I followed you here today, and I was trying to find a reason to come talk to you, and then you came in here, and I just – I thought it was my chance. I swear I didn’t know about the door, though! I’m not some weirdo stalker, I promise.”

Lucas is suddenly pretty sure all of this must be some elaborate prank.

“Let me get this straight,” he declares, “you followed me here?”

Eliott nods, his eyes on the floor.

“Because you saw me on campus one day?”

Eliott hums, still not looking up.

“And you wanted a chance to talk to me? You followed me because you wanted to talk to me?”

“I know it’s crazy –”, Eliott starts to say, but Lucas interrupts.

“And now you’re offering to help me get rid of my virginity?”

“I’m sorry!”, Eliott says hotly. “I know it’s stupid, but when you said you were into boys, I just – Just forget I ever said anything, okay? Just forget my name. Pretend you’re here alone. We’ll get out here soon and you can forget we ever met.”

Lucas stares at Eliott. He is the goddamn hottest guy Lucas ever saw, and he is sitting here trying to tell Lucas he is into him? Yeah, definitely a prank.

But on the off chance it isn’t – and considering they might die soon anyway…

“Oh, no,” Lucas states. “You’re not backing out of this now. I’m not saying we’ll get to the virgin part, but I think you definitely owe me a kiss for locking us up in here.”

Eliott finally looks up, and the confusion on his face mirrors what Lucas felt earlier. But then, Lucas can see the moment he decides not to look a gift horse in the mouth, or grab the horn by the bulls, or whatever animal he would like to compare Lucas to – he doesn’t waste another second and crashes his lips to Lucas’.

When the night guard arrives a few hours later – “Saw the light coming from under the door, figured something was up,” – Eliott can’t help but tease Lucas.

“Told you we weren’t gonna die in there.”

Lucas glares, but he doesn’t think it’ll have much effect, with his tousled hair, his bright eyes, his lips red and kiss-swollen, and his shirt on backwards due to their haste to get presentable when they heard the guard coming.

“Fuck off.”

Eliott laughs, and tugs Lucas by the hand.

“Come one. Better take care of – some things. You never know when you might die, and you know, you don’t wanna die a –”

Lucas shuts him up with a kiss – but it may not be a bad idea to follow Eliott home. Just in case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 22 down, 3 to go!
> 
> Please let me know what you think!
> 
> <3


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: "We’re roommates but we’re falling for each other"
> 
> <3

It had started as a quick white lie, to get the boys off his back. They kept pushing him to go talk to any boy who looked at him a bit too long, or to give his number to basically any barista or waiter ever, or to go on a blind date with Basile’s cousin.

So Lucas had told them he had a thing going with his roommate.

Which was definitely not true.

But not because Lucas didn’t want to.

He’d had a crush on the handsome boy since he met him when he first came to look at the apartment with Manon. It wasn’t the biggest one he’d seen, nor the cheapest, but it had, well, other advantages, so to speak, so Lucas had been quick to co-sign the lease. If Manon suspected his reasons, she hadn’t said anything – but she had smiled when Lucas had come up with his fib.

Sadly, his fantasies of cooking together with his roommate, watching movies cuddled up on the couch, and slowly falling in love, had turned out to be a pipe dream. Eliott was mostly in his room. On occasions, he liked to blast dubstep. Lucas had soon figured out that the dubstep meant that Eliott was, uh, entertaining. The number of girls Lucas had walked in on early in the morning, before his first coffee, was staggering, and had quickly led to him putting up all his vague romantic ideas of his roommate.

But by the time Lucas was forced to come to the sad conclusion that the cutest boys were always straight, he’d already kinda committed to the story he’d told his friends, and so now he was stuck with it.

So every time he fantasized about another domestic moment of fluff with Eliott, he told himself it was for a good purpose. The girls were always bugging him for details about what he and his roommate were up to. They had declared them to be made for each other, and the discussions about their ship name were still in full vigor with no hint of them losing interest any time soon.

So Lucas provided.

He and Eliott had cooked pizza from scratch together, getting covered in flour, and accidentally setting off the smoke alarm because they were too busy making out to pay attention to the oven. Lucas ignored Emma’s eager question as to whether they had showered together to get rid of the flour dust.

Another time, he and Eliott had gone grocery shopping together, and Eliott had spun the cart on which Lucas had been standing so fast Lucas had fallen off, luckily into a pile of cardboard boxes. He’d still made Eliott kiss it better on each and every faint bruise as soon as they’d gotten home.

Or the time when they had held a Star Wars marathon, arguing about who was sexier, the young Han Solo or Dameron Poe, when Eliott had turned off the tv and complained Lucas was forcing him to compare a bunch of actors, when Eliott clearly had the sexiest boy of all in his arms.

The girls cooed at every concoction he fed them. In all honesty, it became hard for Lucas to remember none of this had actually happened – until the next scantily clad girl tiptoed through the hall on the way to the bathroom, bleary faced from the lack of sleep.

So after a few months of happy bliss, Lucas felt he had no choice but to break things off with Eliott. It became pretty painful to come up with lovey-dovey tales, and his fantasies were more and more often getting into… less family-friendly territory, which he wasn’t about to share with everybody.

His friends were a bit astonished at the news, and Lucas supposed it was weird, since he never even hinted at any trouble in paradise, but he shrugged it off, saying it was amicable, a joint decision, and he wasn’t even going to move out.

The downside was obviously that, after a few wonderful weeks of peace and quiet when everybody was coming around to the end of Lucas’ first relationship, Basile’s cousin came back into the picture.

Lucas tried to hold off, but he had no excuses left. And anyway, Eliott was playing dubstep almost every night, although Lucas hadn’t really encountered any pretty girls lately, and it grated Lucas’ nerves. It was time to admit he would never have Eliott, all his beautiful daydreams notwithstanding, so he might as well give somebody else a chance.

So he went out with Marc a few times. He was kind, and he had grey eyes, which Lucas recently discovered he had a thing for, so that was a plus. He was also a bit boring, and he tutted at Lucas disapprovingly when the latter tried to ride the bus without validating his ticket, but other than that, he was pretty okay.

And that’s how he found himself on the couch in his flat one evening. Marc and he had watched a movie – Lucas had nixed Marc’s suggestion of Star Wars vehemently – to the soft background music of dubstep coming out of Eliott’s room. It had been weird at first, but it had grounded Lucas somehow – Eliott was never going to be interested, and it was best if he remembered that and didn’t forget that Marc was here, and rather into him if the heated make-out session they were currently engaged in was to be believed.

Neither he nor Marc noticed the sudden appearance of Eliott in the living room, until the later coughed apologetically.

“Uh, sorry… I didn’t realize you had, uh, company, Lucas,” he stammered.

Lucas immediately let go of Marc, and blushed, then mentally berated himself. Eliott himself probably had a girl in his bed, so why would Lucas not be allowed to bring anybody over?

“Uh, y-yeah, no big deal,” he said, as soon as his vocal cords functioned again. “Uh, Marc, this is Eliott, my roommate. Eliott, this is Marc, my – uh…”

“Lucas’ boyfriend,” Marc cut in, a bit smugly. They’d never discussed their status, but Lucas supposed Marc had just made it clear where he was standing. He didn’t know how he felt about it.

Eliott stared at the two of them, his eyes wide. Lucas didn’t know what was going on.

“Uh, is this – is this a problem? We could go to my room, if you want…”

He hoped the problem wasn’t that he had brought home a boy. He realized he’d never talked with Eliott about his sexuality.

Eliott seemed to be slapped out of whatever daze he’d been in.

“Oh! Oh, no,” he quickly replied. “Please, it’s no problem at all. I’ll just… grab a drink and leave you guys, then… Bye, uh, Martin?”

“Marc,” Marc answered pleasantly, pulling Lucas close.

Lucas watched Eliott retreat into the kitchen – he whipped his eyes away as soon as he realized they were trained on the other boy’s ass in his tight jeans – and then returned his close-lipped smile when he passed them again on the way back to his room. The volume of the dubstep was turned on fractionally, and Marc wanted to continue the heavy petting, but somehow, Lucas wasn’t really into it, and though Marc clearly was angling for an invitation to spend the night, Lucas didn’t extend one.

After he said goodnight to Marc at the front door, he sat still on his bed, his knees pulled up, his arms around himself, wondering how on earth he had gotten himself in this situation. Maybe he needed to move out anyway. It was clear his crush on Eliott, stupid and one-sided as it was, hadn’t died, and maybe it wouldn’t as long as he lived here.

A knock on the door brought him back into the here and now.

At his “Yes?”, the door opened, and Eliott stood right at the threshold, his hands wrung together.

“Uh, Lucas, I was wondering… Uhm, please don’t take this the wrong way, but, uh… I thought about earlier, and maybe, if it wouldn’t be too much of a hassle, I would indeed prefer it if you went to your room with your, uh, boyfriend in the future.”

The last words came out in a rush, and Lucas wondered if he heard them right.

“Excuse me?”, he uttered, painfully polite.

Eliott mumbled the same sentence as before, this time so low Lucas had to strain to hear it, but there was no doubt Eliott was actually saying what he thought he had been saying.

“Are you saying I can’t bring a guy over to my own flat, that I pay rent for, unless I go to my room with him? What the actual fuck?”

Eliott blushed.

“It’s just… You don’t have to, obviously, but maybe it would be easier for both of us…”

Lucas glared.

“Easier for both of us? How do you figure that, exactly?”

“I mean, you wouldn’t have to worry about me walking in on you…”

“ _I_ wouldn’t have to worry about that?” Lucas really was upset. Just because Eliott wasn’t interested in him, didn’t mean he had to be such a douchebag about other guys maybe being so. “Are you sure it’s not just about you? Your straight innocent eyes can’t handle two guys making out, is that it?”

A blush appeared on Eliott’s cheeks, and Lucas deflated. So Eliott was indeed uncomfortable with the idea. The moving out plan became more and more alluring by the minute.

It was silent for a long beat, and then Eliott spoke up, enunciating clearly.

“I’m not straight.”

“Huh? Don’t give me crap. I’ve seen most of your one-night stands. Very female, the lot of them.”

“Yeah, I know…” Eliott chuckled a bit self-deprecatingly. “I’m pan, though. I’ve been with guys too, just not…recently.”

In all honesty, the Lucas of a few months ago would have been elated to hear this. Right now, however, it was more a question of adding insult to injury. So Eliott was into other boys, just not into Lucas. It was this epiphany that drove him to bitterness.

“Yeah, well. At least girls have been doing it for you, then.”

“What? What do you mean?” Eliott sounded genuinely confused.

“All the dubstep. Have you even spent one night alone this month?”

When Eliott froze, Lucas almost wanted to take back his words. Eliott didn’t owe him any accountability.

“Uh, I’m sorry about the dubstep. I haven’t been seeing anybody for a while, but I… I kinda kept playing the music. I don’t know why.”

He was not looking at Lucas as he spoke, and he fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt.

“Oh. Well, it’s none of my business anyway, so, uh –”

“What if I wanted it to be?”

Silence.

“What?”

“What if I wanted it to be your business?”, Eliott repeated. He sounded unsure, but he stared straight at Lucas.

Lucas didn’t answer, sitting on his bed open-mouthed. What was Eliott trying to say? The other boy took a deep breath, and gingerly sat down next to Lucas, far enough not to touch him, but close enough to feel his warmth.

“I, uh, I brought over only girls recently because there was this one boy I was trying to get out of my head. And when that didn’t work, I didn’t want – I didn’t want him to suspect anything so I kept playing music. It’s stupid, I know.”

Whoa. Lucas tried to unpack all of that in a logical manner, but he failed spectacularly.

“You played dubstep so I would think you had a girl over?”

Eliott nodded.

“And you brought only girls home because…”

“Because boys weren’t doing it for me, not when they weren’t you. Not that the girls were working out, either.”

There was honesty and vulnerability in his voice, and in his eyes.

“But why… why didn’t you just talk to me? You avoided me all the time… We hardly ever even spoke before now…”

“I know. I just, I crushed so hard on you, from the moment you came to see the flat. But I had no idea you were into guys… I thought the girl you were with was your girlfriend. You two seemed so affectionate.”

“Oh, uh, no, she’s one of my best friends, and an ex-roommate, actually. But I’m gay, so, uh…”

Eliott sighed.

“Yeah, I figured that out now. And it sucks, because maybe, if I had just made a move sooner… But it doesn’t matter. You have a boyfriend, and I’ll have to learn to live with that.”

Oh crap. Lucas had forgotten all about Marc.

“I wouldn’t call it that… We went out a couple of times… Mostly because it seems I was applying your tactic to try to get over a certain somebody I was crushing on… Somebody I too thought was straight, what with all the girls he was bringing home…”

He let his words die off, looking at Eliott.

It took him a few seconds, but then he turned towards Lucas, shifting slightly closer. Their legs touched, and it burned Lucas through Eliott’s jeans and his sweatpants.

“So, uh, if he promised not to bring over any girls anymore, could you be persuaded not to see Marc anymore?”

Lucas pretended to mull it over.

“Maybe if he also promised he wouldn’t play dubstep if I ever end up in his bed, I think I could be, yes.”

Eliott laughed.

“I won’t have to play anything if we stay in your bed.”

And that sounded like a perfect compromise, so Lucas toppled Eliott and pressed their lips together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a comment? Pretty please?
> 
> <3


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: "I’m your new neighbour and I got locked out, help!"
> 
> <3

Eliott cannot keep in a sigh of relief when he rounds the last corner on the stairs. He hadn’t really been up to going out just yet, not completely recovered from a depressive episode from hell, but his fridge had been totally empty, and he even didn’t find any shampoo, which he bitterly needed after days without a shower, so he had made himself get up. Of course, the store had been fucking swamped, and it had taken way too long, and then when he got back here, the elevator had been closed off for maintenance _again_ , and so he had had no choice to drag himself and his groceries up eleven floors.

But he has the finish line in sight. He can see his front door, only fifty or so steps away, and then he can shower and put on a clean shirt and a fresh pair of boxers and fall back into his bed with some microwaved soup.

His feet shuffle over the floor, his breath shallow, his eyes focused on the door, keys already in hand. Forty steps… thirty steps… twenty…

“Excuse me,” a voice suddenly breaks through his count, but Eliott cannot deal with anybody right now, he needs to get in, fall down, close his eyes for a _long_ time. Ten more steps.

“Uh, sir? I’m so sorry, but –”

A groan escapes Eliott.

The cashier couldn’t have been just slightly faster? The elevator couldn’t have worked properly, for once?

“Look, I am really sorry, but I live in 312, and I –”

Eliott forces himself to look up. The sooner he listens to this guy, the sooner he can tell him to fuck off, and the sooner he can collapse on his bed again.

In front of him stands a man he’s never seen before. He is a bit shorter than Eliott, but he looks to be about his age. His hair is brown and sticks in every possible direction – but Eliott cannot fault him for that, especially not when it looks clean and free of grease. His own matted hair surely looks a lot worse. The guy is barefooted, wearing grey sweatpants and a T-shirt that has faded into something undefined. He is holding a few envelopes in his hand, but Eliott doesn’t really register those, too busy staring at the guy’s feet. Who the fuck walks around without shoes?

“I just went down to get the mail from the lobby, but I guess the door fell closed, and now I can’t get in, so I was just hoping I could borrow your phone to call somebody, I promise all be out of your hair after that –”

Oh, god. Eliott really isn’t equipped to deal with people right now.

But his eyes fall again on those naked feet. Who knew how long the guy had been standing out here in the hallway already.

He takes a deep breath, thinking longingly about his bed, his shower, microwaved soup.

He looks up, unsure what to say or do, and the guy is looking at him with – oh.

Blue.

A summer sky. A pristine lake. Faded denim. Soft blankets. Warmth and safety and belonging.

This guy has the biggest, the bluest, the most beautiful eyes Eliott has ever seen, and suddenly he doesn’t feel as bone-tired anymore. Surely he can manage for another five minutes, while this guy calls the landlord or some locksmith or his girlfriend to come pick him up.

He nods, not trusting himself to speak, and he opens the door, while the guy smiles at him and those blue depths suddenly shine like the stars and the moon combined.

“Oh, thank you so much! Here, let me help you with that…”

He grabs one of Eliott’s bags before Eliott can react, and carries it in.

“Shall I help you put these up?”

He doesn’t wait for Eliott’s answer, and efficiently starts unpacking the bread, milk, juice, and microwaveable soup. He puts the shampoo on the table, and looks at Eliott expectantly. Eliott has no clue what he is supposed to say or do. The fog in his head is growing again, and if he doesn’t get into the shower soon, he won’t be able to tonight, and the idea of another night without washing up makes his skin crawl.

“So, uh, can I borrow your phone then?”

Ah. Right. He tries to remember where it is. Oh, right, he put it on the charger before he left the flat. He wants to go get it, but the idea of walking to the bedroom only to have to come back is suddenly way too overwhelming, and he sags against the wall.

Finally, the guy seems to notice something is up.

“Hey, are you – are you okay? You look a bit… off. Is there anything I can do?”

He sounds concerned, and his blue eyes have gone a shade darker as he watches Eliott.

“M fine,” Eliott croaks. “Phone… in the… in the bedroom.”

The guy looks outright worried now.

“Okay, uh, I think you should go lay down anyway. I can leave you to get some rest, I’ll find somebody else to borrow a phone from…”

Eliott feels bad, but it sounds heavenly. He nods once, curtly, trying to ignore the guilty feeling inside, and tries to move his legs, but he stumbles. In a flash, the guy is by his side.

“Let me help you get to bed,” he says, slinging Eliott’s arm over his shoulder, letting him put most of his weight onto him.

“Where is your bedroom? Careful now,” the boy admonishes softly, as they shuffle through the hall.

“Wait,” Eliott mumbles and halts in front of the bathroom. “Need a shower.”

He gets a sceptical look from the guy.

“Are you sure you can handle it? Not gonna lie, you look really like shit.”

Eliott just stands, too tired to nod, or to think about anything.

“Okay,” the guy relents, “but I’d feel a lot better if you let me stay while you shower. I mean –”

Eliott notices a blush creeping up on the guy’s cheeks, but he doesn’t have the mental capacity to figure out what that is about.

“I mean, not in the bathroom, obviously. But maybe I could wait until you’re done and I know you’re safe in your bed before I go? I wouldn’t forgive myself if you slipped and cracked open your head or something.”

It all goes too fast for Eliott to understand, but the siren call of the shower is too alluring to ignore, so he just nods again, and croaks, “Shampoo?”.

He waits while the guy quickly fetches it from the kitchen table, and then almost tumbles inside. He misses the apprehension in his visitor’s eyes, and finally takes off his smelly clothes. He is too exhausted to stand up, so he sits on the floor of the shower stall, and mechanically washes his hair. Turning off the water, he sits, not up to finding a towel and drying himself, until he hears a knock on the door.

“Are you okay in there?”

He mumbles something, and decides he is dry enough to pull on some underwear. Just as he hears another knock, a bit more urgent this time, he is ready. He pulls open the door, and even though it is probably rude as hell, completely ignores the boy, hand poised to knock a third time. The soup will have to wait, he vaguely thinks, as he manages to stay upright until he is within reach of his bed, tumbling down on it, and sinking into a dreamless sleep.

***

Eliott wakes up, disoriented and with a growling feeling in his stomach. He tries to remember what happened – he went to the store, he took a shower, did he eat anything? Another grown from his stomach seems to indicate he didn’t. He sniffs.

Something smells good.

He sniffs again. It’s almost like fresh coffee.

Slowly, carefully, he sits up, and swings his legs over the edge of the bed. The exhaustion has worn off somewhat, and he walks to the kitchen, ready to finally munch on some bread, when he stops in his track.

At the counter, with his back towards Eliott, stands a man in an old t-shirt, comfy sweatpants and – Eliott’s Pollock socks?

He coughs, and the guy whips around, a startled look on his face.

Blue eyes.

Suddenly it comes back to Eliott – the neighbour locked out of his flat, wanting to use Eliott’s phone, standing watch outside the bathroom door while he washed off the grime of the past week.

“Oh, you’re awake! I, uh – I didn’t want to come into your bedroom for your phone while you were sleeping, so uh, I hope you don’t mind me hanging out. I made coffee and I can warm up that soup you got…”

“Are those my socks?”

Eliott doesn’t know why this is the only thing on his mind at this very moment. It must be that the blue of the man’s eyes makes him a bit dizzy.

“Oh! Uh, yeah, sorry. I got cold feet… I started a load of laundry and I saw these were hanging on your drying rack, so uh. I’ll wash them and get them back to you, of course. As soon as I can get into my flat.”

Eliott sits down at the table, while the other puts a mug of steaming coffee in front of him.

“If it’s okay, I’ll go grab your phone now, and call a locksmith, yeah?”

“What time is it?”, Eliott murmurs, sipping his coffee. It is way better than when he makes it, and he eyes the mug slightly suspiciously.

“About eleven pm,” the guy says, moving towards the door.

“It’ll cost you an arm and a leg to get a locksmith out at this hour.”

The boy stops in his tracks.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs, “not a lot of choice, have I?”

“You could stay until tomorrow,” Eliott hears himself say before he can think it trough. Or until the day after, his treacherous mind adds, as he drinks the heavenly brew.

The guy’s eyes open even wider.

“Really?”

“Really,” Eliott says. “I’m not the best company right now, but there should be enough soup for both of us, and uh, we could watch a movie or something.”

A long beat passes, and then the guy steps back into the kitchen, getting out the soup, and firing up the microwave.

“Thanks. I’m Lucas.”

“Eliott. And you’re welcome.”

They grin at each other.

Eliott feels the last drags of his dark mood disappear.

A good neighbour is worth more than a distant friend, he thinks, and if something inside him pipes up to say that neighbours can become friends, or even more than friends, he tries to ignore it. For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONE MORE TO GO!
> 
> Comments are, as always, appreciated (dammit the word 'comments' should start with an a!).
> 
> <3


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: "Both going to grab the same thing and touching hands, then making eye contact"
> 
> <3

For all Lucas’ lamenting about wanting to live alone, so he could walk around naked, eat pizza at every hour of the day, and never have to listen to any of his roommates get it on ever again, now that he actually was living out that long-desired dream, he was… lonely, for lack of a better word.

When he had realized he was talking to himself, _and_ replying, he had figured he needed something alive to keep him company.

And so he had decided to go to the pet store, to see if he could actually commit to the immense job of keeping an innocent animal happy, healthy and alive.

It was, however, not an easy task. He’d had a staring contest with a black-and-white cat, and he’d been playing for a while with a cute Pomeranian, but he hadn’t fallen in love. The birds had been entertaining for a while, and he actually felt a connection with this yellow puff that kept flying into the cage and seemed to love taking baths and ruffling its feathers, but when the store clerk had started explaining about shells to sharpen their claws and different grain mixes and fake eggs for the bird to breed on, he’d given up.

The fish were pretty, but boring, and the tortoises had a temper. Lucas didn’t feel like sharing his flat with a snappy, mean animal – he was perfectly fine filling out that slot all by himself, thank you.

He had tried to find the walking sticks between the non-walking ones, and given up after a few minutes. The ant farm reminded him too much of a middle school science project. A chicken sounded good in theory – a fresh egg daily was a big boon – but the idea of a chicken in a flat was preposterous. And while he was all for recycling and taking care of the environment, a worm composting station just sounded dirty.

So he was getting a bit desperate, wandering further down the aisles. He turned a corner, and suddenly found himself in front of a cage with one single white mouse in it.

The animal was sitting up on its haunches, looking at Lucas, its whiskers trembling as it sniffed. It looked kinda cute, and Lucas wanted to pet it, to see if maybe he could take this tiny thing home. He opened the cage and reached out for the tiny animal, when suddenly a large hand, with silver rings on multiple fingers, carefully grabbed the mouse right before Lucas could.

“Hey!”, Lucas protested without thinking, turning towards the intruder. “I was going to pet him!”

“Well, I guess…”, a male voice replied, and the hand was extended towards Lucas, not letting go of the mouse.

Lucas gingerly extended a finger towards the animal’s fur, and touched it, trying hard to stroke the frightened little thing, who was now squeaking loudly. However, the hand of the guy was kinda in the way, and so Lucas looked up, and – promptly forgot all about the mouse.

The hand with all the silver rings appeared to belong to some sort of ethereal creature right out of Lucas’ gayest fantasies.

“So did you pet him enough?”, the god in front of him said, but Lucas suddenly had difficulty understanding French.

“Huh?”, he croaked out, undignified, sounding rather like the frogs he had given wide berth earlier.

The guy laughed, and fuck, if it wasn’t like the sun broke through the clouds and lit up the whole store.

“Did that satisfy your urge to pet him? I mean, I don’t mind if you want to do it again, but I promised Brian a mouse soon, so, yeah…”

His voice died off apologetically, and Lucas swallowed back a lump.

It was stupid, really, to get disappointed. Men like this weren’t put on earth for Lucas, as much as he might wish it to be otherwise. Of course this guy had better things to do than stand in a pet store with a mouse in his _goddamn sexy_ hands, being drooled over by a total stranger.

“Oh! Oh, uh, yeah,” he said, praying his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. “Sorry, uh, yeah, sure. Wouldn’t want to keep Brian waiting.” He chuckled in embarrassment.

The guy nodded emphatically.

“Yeah, my baby boy gets a bit impatient sometimes, so…”

Oh. Lucas hadn’t given too much thought as to who or what Brian might be, but it made sense. He pictured a cute toddler with the same messy hair and grey eyes as his dad – fucking _adorable_ , there was no other word for it, waiting anxiously for its new pet. His vivid imagination played the scene out with full-colour detail – a spacious flat somewhere in Paris, a pretty wife holding on to Brian, the guy stepping through the door with the mouse in a small cage, Brian escaping his mom’s hold and hugging his dad’s legs, jumping up and down in excitement.

He had to swallow another lump down.

“Oh, yeah, I understand,” he said, while stepping aside so the guy could pass him on his way to the register. “Does he like mice, your son?”

“They’re his favourite,” the guy said, putting the mouse in a small box and moving past Lucas. “And it’s been two weeks, so you can imagine he’s pretty hungry. Have a nice day!”

Wait. What? The scene in front of Lucas’ eyes changed screeched to a halt, and then picked up again, this time with a creepy toddler biting into the mouse, blood smeared around the corners of his mouth, while the pretty mom wiped the back of her hand around her own lips, stained red, as the guy looked on proudly.

“He’s gonna… _eat_ … that mouse?”, Lucas squealed in horror. The guy, who had almost turned the corner, slowed down and looked over his shoulder at Lucas.

“What else would he do with it?”

Lucas’ mouth fell open. He pinched himself, convinced he somehow entered a fucked-up horror dream, but he flinched at the pinch, so he must be awake.

“What… fucking parent lets his kid _eat_ mice?”

The guy stared at him for a long beat, and then suddenly, that sunshine smile broke through again. He stepped closer to Lucas, who recoiled in disgust.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!”, the guy said as Lucas kept backing away from him. “I guess I did call him my baby, didn’t I? Brian is not my son, though, he’s my pet snake!”

Lucas’ head spun.

“First of all,” he spluttered, “who the fuck calls his _snake_ Brian? What kind of a name is that?”

The guy shrugged.

“It suits him. If you saw him, you’d know.”

Lucas shivered visibly.

“Oh, come on,” the other man said. “Don’t tell me you don’t like snakes. Brian is cute, I swear.”

Lucas wasn’t convinced.

“If you say so… But anyway, more importantly, you can’t just let that tiny mouse be eaten by a snake! Look at him!”

The guy did look at the mouse, and then back at Lucas.

“But Brian needs to eat.”

“But I wanted to buy that mouse! I wanted a pet!”

It was a lie, because Lucas had in no way committed to the wretched thing, but he couldn’t just let it be taken to an early, gruesome death.

“Ah.”

The guy seemed to understand the issue, as he looked from Lucas to the mouse with his piercing eyes, biting his bottom lip. Dammit, Lucas really couldn’t look too closely at that, because he felt his resolve weaken. He might just agree to be fed to Brain himself, if only to keep the guy’s eyes on him.

“What if I helped you find another pet?”

Fuck. Suddenly Lucas didn’t give a damn about the fate of the poor little mouse – it seemed to look at him with hurtful eyes now, upset at Lucas’ betrayal – if the alternative was staying close to this guy while they wandered through the pet store together, discussing the pros and cons of each animal.

“Uh… well, I would have to warn you. That mouse was kinda my last hope.”

“I will take the risk. For Brian.”

Lucas dithered for only a few seconds, in which the mouse didn’t deign him worthy of another look, before he caved.

“I guess.”

“Okay, let’s go then! I’m Eliott, by the way. Brian’s dad.”

He laughed, and the sound of it made a shiver roll deliciously slow over Lucas’ spine. He managed to keep himself mostly in check though, rolling his eyes as he extended a hand.

“Lucas.”

And they set forth on another tour of the aisles, Eliott trying to emphasize all the advantages of the creatures they came across, and Lucas nixing them all with a sad shake of his head. Eliott had to agree with lots of Lucas’ arguments – spiders were too creepy to keep willingly in the house, hamsters were smelly, and chameleons sounded cool, but all they did was lounge around under a heat lamp.

So when they found themselves back where they started out, they both looked at the small box in Eliott’s hand.

“I mean, maybe Brian could wait another day to eat… He did seem very hungry but I’m reasonably sure it wouldn’t kill him…”

Eliott looked at Lucas with a pout and honest-to-God puppy dog eyes, and Lucas couldn’t help but laugh.

“I guess I can survive without a pet, too… It might be a close call, though.”

“Yeah,” Eliott nodded, suddenly serious. “Not a risk I’d be willing to take, though.”

Lucas’ breath hitched. Eliott was watching him intently, and Lucas was pretty sure this time he wasn’t succeeding at keeping the blush off his cheeks.

Suddenly though, Eliott jumped.

“Oh, Lucas! I know! I know exactly what you need!”

He grabbed Lucas’ hand, and for a dizzying second, Lucas was too distracted by the contact to move. But Eliott tugged, and Lucas had no choice to follow him, and before he knew it, Eliott was showing him an enclosure with a grand flourishing gesture.

“What’s that?”

Lucas peered in, and then –

“A rabbit! It’s perfect, Lucas!”

Inside the cage was a tiny grey rabbit with floppy ears, and Lucas felt his heart melt.

“Oooh, you’re cute! Look, Eliott, he’s so fucking cute!”

“He is,” Eliott said, his voice low, and Lucas looked over his shoulder to see if anything was wrong, but Eliott just smiled, his eyes sparkling.

“What do you think, then? Worthy alternative for a mouse?”

Lucas pondered for a minute.

“Yeah. Come on, help me flag down an attendant so I can take him home.”

Together, they listened to a tired-looking clerk enumerating the important points in rabbit care, and loading their arms with the necessary equipment and food before finally taking them to the register where Eliott paid for his mouse and Lucas for the rabbit and all its accessories.

“So,” Eliott said, as they stepped outside. “What are you going to name him?”

“I don’t know yet,” Lucas truthfully replied, looking at the ball of grey fur. “But it’ll be better than Brian, I know that. I’m a way better pet dad than you.”

Eliott laughed brightly.

“I feel like I’m kinda his dad, too. I mean, I helped pick out his house and his toys and everything.”

Lucas was inclined to agree, but sadly, this was as far as things were going to go. Eliott would go home and feed Brian the mouse, and Lucas would pour all his affection into his new roomie.

“Maybe, uh…”

Eliott hesitated.

“What?”, Lucas asked curiously.

“Maybe I could come visit him sometime? And you, too, obviously.”

Lucas whipped his head up in surprise.

“And, you could come see Brian, too, I mean, if you wanted…”

Lucas smiled widely.

“Is this your way of asking my number?”

Eliott mirrored Lucas’ smile.

“Yeah. After all, don’t you think our pets would be better off with two dads?”

And as he punched in his number into Eliott’s phone, Lucas’ imagination got kickstarted again, showing him vividly another flat somewhere in Paris, with a rabbit enclosure next to a glass aquarium in which Brian was leisurely devouring a mouse, and two boys cuddled up next to them, kissing each other. It beat living alone, for sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it, y'all, we've reached the end of these prompty short stories!
> 
> I want to take the time to get some longer works finished and ready for posting now, so it may be a while...
> 
> Leave me a comment in the mean time, if you want!
> 
> <3

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me a comment, pretty please?
> 
> <3


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